The Ones You Don't Let Die
by ilexx
Summary: Beka and a friend of Dylan's develop some interest for each other.
1. Greeneyed monster, the first

I don't own Andromeda.

Set sometime after WHTARD. Not ep-related.

**The Ones You Don't Let Die…**

_1. Green-Eyed Monster, the first_

From his place behind the _Maru_'s navigation station, Seamus Zelasny Harper was watching the scene unfolding in front of him from narrowed eyes, desperately trying to keep his jaws from grinding. The guy was unbelievable… As was Beka, for that matter! Who right now was throwing back her head, showing off that long, white perfect neck and two immaculate rows of too many white, perfect teeth in a deep-throated laughter. Which prompted the man standing next to her pilot seat to place a casual hand on her shoulder, laughing back at her and bowing down conspiratorially. Oh yes, the two of them were getting along famously!

For a moment Harper felt urged to jump up and either strangle the guest they were transporting to the Commonwealth conference scheduled on the _Andromeda _or rush off to his bunk or someplace else on the _Maru_, it didn't matter where – as long as he didn't have to see them. But then he struggled for the last remnants of his patience and remained on his seat, refraining from running off. Not that anyone would have noticed his absence, but still… _Ah, what the heck!_ he thought annoyed, bracing himself for three more hours of watching Beka make a fool of herself over the next superman waiting in line to sweep her off her feet. Just what had Dylan been thinking to send them – Beka, of all people – off to fetch this guy? **Had **he been thinking? Probably not…

Man Ka-Lupe. Marshall Man Ka-Lupe. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Older. Owing her his life and deeply grateful for it. Or so he said, using an extraordinary amount of most impressive words uttered in a deep, pleasant, soft voice. Witty, charming, sexy, a smooth-talker and a daredevil, but unlike most of his type one with clout and power and lots and lots of stash. Beka's kind of guy. Bobby Jenkins, Gonsalvo Alvarez Téron, Gernot Jdanov out of someone by somebody, Yong Yong Park, Rahul Fatih, P'toraus Sankérem, Guillaume d'Envers, Leydon Bryce-Hawking, Charlemagne Bolivar, Abel Ladrone. And then, of course, Tyr Anasazi and Dylan Hunt. And now Man Ka-Lupe. Yes, definitely Beka's kind of guy.

Who was once more now leaning down to her, much like Tyr in a self-confident, cocky, impressive manner, that was at the same time, very much unlike Tyr's though, courteous, almost deferent.

"Seeing you fly…" he almost gasped, shaking his head in awe. "Now that I've seen this, the moon setting between the mountains of Nanda, the emerald waterfalls of Oreny and a young High Guard captain rescued from the darkness to save the Known Worlds, I feel as if I've witnessed all miracles this universe has to offer," he uttered in a low-keyed, deep voice that seem to vibrate in one's navel. _And if **I** can feel it_, thought Harper in distress, _I'm sure so can Beka. _Great! Just like Dylan yet another one of the brave, righteous, idealistic 'founding fathers' of the Commonwealth calling her 'a miracle'. _Even if she were inclined to resist, how the hell is she supposed to do that? _Harper began to panic. Especially since Ka-Lupe, very much unlike Dylan who seemed to concentrate all the self-restrain he so thoroughly lacked with all other women on keeping his distance from Beka, was fixing her in a way so intense as if she was the last living soul in all of the Three Galaxies.

Harper clenched his jaws. He's seen this tactics from Dylan – not with Beka, but with just about every other woman, including Rommie. Bright, warm, honest eyes burning down on some poor female or other, concentrating on her as if she was the only thing that mattered in the whole universe. Harper's seen it work, has seen it always succeed. It didn't fail this time either. So when he observed the broad, dimpled, sharky, triumphant smile, that always caused an eruption of butterfly-wings in his stomach, that let Tyr's eyes grow round and huge (and scared), and even made – despite all self-imposed self-effacement – Dylan's face soften up within fractions of a second… when he noticed that smile blossom on Beka's lips, Harper kicked into action.

"Define 'young'," he heard his own voice sounding impossibly loud intruding upon the two of them. Beka's smile vanished, making room for a frown, while Ka-Lupe reluctantly tore his gaze away from her.

"Well," the Marshall answered with a shrug, "he is younger than I am…"

"Sheesh!" Harper exclaimed. "I'm sorry to hear that. I mean… 345 years and counting, you know…"

The other man laughed good-humouredly.

"I meant biologically, Mr. Harper. I think Dylan's about... 42 years old?"

"And you are?"

"Harper!" Beka cut in, indignantly.

"What? Come on, Beks! He says he's older than Dylan – and Dylan is already old enough to have me time and again worried whether he still remembers what to put where…"

"Harper!" Beka snapped anew, sounding even more outraged. 'He-Man' Ka-Lupe only laughed up, amused.

"I don't know about Dylan, but I can assure you, Mr. Harper, that I so far never had any trouble remembering 'what to put where'…"

"Any more questions you have or does that satisfy you, Harper?" Beka asked in a cold tone.

He cringed a little, and backed off in the end.

"That'll do," he mumbled. Adding stubbornly and almost inaudibly: "For now…"

After flying for a few minutes in silence, the conversation between Beka and Ka-Lupe began to flow anew, an easy, casual banter developing so naturally as if they'd known each other for years. It was abruptly ended by the voice of the _Eureka Maru_ announcing that they were approaching the _Andromeda Ascendant_.

"That was a smooth flight…" Ka-Lupe said appreciatively.

"Fast enough for you?" Beka inquired with a small, challenging grin. They had been forced to delay their departure due to some pressing business the Marshall had needed to sort out at the last moment. He had apologised, asking – with a doubtful look at the old freighter – if they wouldn't prefer to go along without him, convinced that they otherwise wouldn't make it back in time for the conference. Remembering his skepticism, he couldn't prevent himself from smiling back at her.

"Too fast almost," he murmured, stepping back to let her concentrate on the landing maneuvers. Something that she apparently didn't need to.

"So," she threw in casually, her eyes not leaving the instruments, "before we get back: why don't you fill us in? You and Dylan – how, where and why did the two of you hook up together?"

He grinned lopsidedly.

"That's a long story. Too long for now, but… maybe over dinner?"

She briefly looked up at him and smiled.

"You sure? What about Dylan? Don't you and him have a lot of catching up to do?"

"I'll be around for a whole week, that's enough time for him and me to get together as many times as he can bear. I bet, by the end of it even Dylan will be happy to see the back of me," Ka-Lupe grinned back.

_Not just Dylan,_ Harper silently groaned.

"Besides," the older man continued, "I'm sure he'll understand: we've got a lot in common, think alike on a lot of things…" It sounded ominously in the engineer's already hyper-sensitive ears.

"Really?" the Terran couldn't prevent himself from inserting. "So much in common? Like… promiscuity, maybe?" He could have bitten his tongue off once it was out, but there was nothing he could do about it anymore. The Marshall eyed him slightly taken aback, the shadow of an unsure, yet very amused smile on his lips.

"Define 'promiscuous'," he said encouragingly, much in the same tone Harper had used on him before.

"Oh, in Harper's book," Beka stepped in with an ugly, quick look thrown backwards at her friend, "that's someone getting laid more often than he does. Which includes practically everybody in the Known Worlds," she concluded viciously.

An equally dirty look flashed up in Harper's eyes and his lips parted for a mean response, but then he reconsidered: Dylan had gotten them into this mess, so why not let Dylan sort it out?

A/N: A friend asked for a birthday fic - with very precise requirements: it had to involve Harper and Dylan getting both jealous in theoir own, different ways over Beka. And it had to be both funny and serious. Turned out more difficult than expected - and I can't do it as a one-shot.


	2. Strained relations

_2. Strained relations_

"You want me to do what?"

To say that Dylan Hunt was staring in surprise at his chief engineer would have been the understatement of the week. In all of the Three Galaxies.

"You have got to be kidding, Harper! On a personal level Beka is free to see whomever she wants, whenever she wants it – and I'm about the last person likely to succeed in telling her otherwise." He threw the shorter man a weighing look, then shrugged. "Okay, maybe the last but one. Still..."

"Dylan, you don't get it..."

"Oh, I get it all right! You're jealous, Mr. Harper. And knowing you, I suppose that you already had one or two... rather unfortunate things to say about it all to her – and maybe even him?" the captain asked pointedly, then nodded upon seeing the Terran hang his head. "Yeah, it figures. And now, that you've put yourself into Beka's hot seat, you find it uncomfortable and want me to join you. Read my lips, Harper: no way! I like my head the way it is: firmly attached to my shoulders, thank you very much!" He turned around to leave, but then stopped: "Besides: I know Ka, he's a nice guy, he wouldn't hurt her in a million years. I know that she likes him and that he likes her, too..."

"And if this for once nice guy likes her too much? Have you thought about that?"

Dylan looked at him, doubtful.

"What do you mean?"

Harper blew up his cheeks, then slowly let the air out from a corner of his mouth. Hands in his rear pockets, he shrugged helplessly.

"What if he's really nice? And means it? What if he... I don't know... proposes or something? What if she says yes? I mean... He's pretty smitten with her, Dylan..."

The older man frowned.

"Just 'cause one's... 'smitten with her', doesn't mean he'll propose. I mean, it's been just a few hours. And of course he's smitten with her. What's there to not be smitten with? They all are. You are, I am. Hell, even Tyr is – much as he might hate it."

Harper looked pretty much taken aback.

"You... you admit it?"

A lopsided grin appeared on Dylan's lips, while – hands in his rear pockets – he too began to slightly wiggle around uncomfortably.

"If you quote me on that, I'll deny it. And I'll give you a spanking!" he warned. Harper grinned back at him.

"Remind me when this is over to get jealous of you, too..."

Dylan shook his head.

"I doubt it you will ever have any reason for that."

"What? Come on, big guy, don't sell yourself short. If there is one person Beka thinks the world of, that's you... You must have noticed! To her you're Mr. Perfect, always right, no flaws..."

"Ha!" Dylan exclaimed ironically. "No flaws?"

Harper laughed up.

"Okay, maybe one or two... At most!"

"Yeah, you're probably right on that," the captain retorted with a sarcastic smile. "Not more than two flaws: everything I say... and everything I do."

"Yeah..." Harper acquiesced, "I noticed that she seemed not entirely happy with you over the past month or so. What did you do?"

"The usual," Dylan sighed. Harper furrowed his brows in deep thought.

"You didn't crash the _Maru_, you didn't insist on talking to people wanting to shoot us, you didn't make her baby-sit some stupid Commonwealth high-brow or other, you didn't get anyone of us or yourself hurt, you..." he enumerated, counting down on his fingers.

"No," Dylan interrupted with another sigh. "But I denied her permission to leave with the _Maru_, to... help Rafe on some... genial plan of his..."

"Oh," the Terran nodded understandingly, but for once not sounding anything like his usual smart self. "That must have been fun..."

"Yeah," the captain confirmed dryly. "A funny story. Hilarious, really..."

_"You're joking! You can't deny me permission to leave!" Beka shouted outraged._

_"I not only can, I am doing it!" _Andromeda_'s captain shouted back while hitting the door-lock, closing the entrance to his quarters before any passers-by could get a chance to gather with open mouths in the corridor outside and start placing bets._

_Beka tried to reign in her fury._

_"Dylan," she began in a voice strained by her struggle for composure, "he is my brother, he has this cargo-run to make that he needs my help with, everything is perfectly legal, no catch, no problems, nothing. And that's the whole truth of the matter, pure and simple."_

_"When Rafe is concerned, the truth is never pure – and hardly ever simple," he contradicted her in a stubborn tone._

_"Yes, but this time..."_

_"This time things will go south. Again."_

_"Why?" she shouted at him, suddenly deciding that calmness in a debate with Dylan Hunt was highly overrated. "Just because you say so?"_

_"No, because they always do," he replied firmly, although refraining from reaching her impressive decibel level._

_"Dylan, he is my brother, he needs me..." Beka changed tactics, hoping to take him by surprise. He was surprised all right, but not surprised enough. Two could play at the game._

_"Beka," he approached her, sounding almost pleading, "we are your ship, your crew, your friends... We need you, too..."_

_It didn't work. She stepped out of his reach and looked at him defiantly._

_"Yes," she retorted. "And you have me, all the time, day and night, whenever you need me. Just now he needs me more..."_

_He'd been in enough combat situations to know failure when he saw it. Still, he refused to give in._

_"If everything is so... perfect, what's he needing you for? Beka, look, I don't doubt your ability to..."_

_"Oh, cut the crap, Dylan. You doubt my every ability by assuming that you have the right to decide for me on such matters. I've saved your sorry ass more times than you can count, so stop patronising me as if I were some kind of child or your baby-sister!"_

_"I am not patronising you!" he disagreed. "And I am not treating you like my baby-sister. I'm treating you like a friend. Rafe's schemes are always crazy and dangerous and, even when legal, more than just a bit shady. And I don't want to see any friend of mine hurt by his machinations."_

_"Well, then you must not forget to tell those friends of yours so. But after you're done telling, don't forget that they are entitled to make up their own minds and that you cannot assume authority over their decisions."_

_"You're not just my friend, you're also my XO. Like it or not: I have more authority over you than I would have if you were my wife," he shouted at his wits' end._

_Her eyes darkened, but before he could react to it, her hand had closed around the coffee-cup on his desk. With a quick, fluent move she emptied its hot contents right into his face._

_"Ah!" he shouted, staggering back and wiping at his eyes. "Are you crazy?"_

_"Count your blessings, Dylan. Had I been your wife, this coffee might have been poisoned."_

_"Yes," he yelled back at her, "and had you been my wife, I would probably be grateful for it being poisoned and offering an easy way out and away from you!"_

"She's hardly spoken to me ever since."

It was true. And much as he could take hysterics and shouting, outbursts of rage and deafening disagreements: he simply couldn't stand the silent treatment. His mother had used it, mastering it to perfection – and whenever he got submitted to it, Dylan began to feel again like a stupid, little boy caught red-handed. A feeling he truly detested, especially when he thought himself in the right. How Beka had found out that this was the best way to get to him, he had no idea. But she had. And she, too, had turned out excellent at it. While under normal circumstances they could go hours, sometimes even a day or two without seeing much of each other, ever since she had decided that he no longer was worthy of her conversation, she had begun to be almost omnipresent. Whatever rooms he entered, what turn he took, what deck he walked: he kept bumping into her, tried to talk, received an impenetrable, polite smile while she listened in silence, before walking off again with a quiet: "Whatever you say, Dylan!" By the end of two weeks he had reached the end of the rope. That was why he had send them off to fetch Man Ka-Lupe.

"So you see, Harper, whoever she might be willing to listen to," he concluded, "that one won't be me."


	3. Refusals all the way

_3. Refusals all the way_

_Andromeda _was busy preparing the conference, the ceremony of 25 more systems joining the Commonwealth as well as – after the accidental destruction of the _Crimson Sunrise_ – the first launching of another sister starship to _The Shining Path_, scheduled to take place during the opening of the conference and in honour of it. So when Harper burst in on Rommie, breathlessly sprouting out whatever had crossed his mind over the past 27 hours regarding Marshall Man Ka-Lupe and Beka, he found her remarkably unimpressed, distracted and thoroughly detached on this matter. On everything else she seemed rather... tensed.

All in all a rather uncharacteristic behaviour for an avatar in general, especially **this **avatar, **his **avatar, his Romdoll, the one and only designed to satisfy every whim of Harper's. In theory. He sighed. Why did applied... science, genius turned to matter always have to have a catch, develop into a surprise? Much as he loved Alexander Fleming: what an unfortunate precedent to set... Oh well, maybe it hadn't been Fleming going first, so why begrudge the old chap?

"Hello! Anybody home?" Seamus Zelasny Harper shouted, waving his hand mere inches in front of Rommie's nose, who – arms crossed on her chest – was critically eyeing the elaborate arrangement placed on the long conference table at the far end of the Obs Deck, just in front of the large panoramic windows.

"Yes, Harper, I hear you... Beka is falling for Marshall Ka-Lupe," the android sighed. "So, she is yet again about to throw herself into some affair with a man she barely knows. No news-value in that, except maybe that this time it's a pretty decent fellow. You should be happy for her..."

"Happy? But... but... we don't know anything about him..."

"Wrong," she interrupted. "**We **know plenty about him. **You **don't. So go inform yourself in the library, there's a lot to be found on him there." She frowned.

"Aha!" Harper exclaimed triumphantly. "You're checking while you speak with me and just found the corpses in his cellar..."

"No," Rommie disagreed, "but tell me, don't you think that Tchengan water-lilies would look better than the Corian violets on that table? Besides, it might please the Castalians..."

"You know what? I give up!" Harper exploded. "Who cares about your stupid water-lilies anyway?"

/

"Trance? Did you hear a single word of what I said?" Harper asked sharply, standing in the middle of Hydroponics and fixing his friend angrily, who turned huge, innocent, soft brown eyes towards him.

"Of course I heard you, Harper," she said slipping her arm under his and trying to gently drag him along with her through the gardens. "I heard every word, I just..." She hesitated.

"You're just not taking me seriously!"

"Don't be ridiculous. I do take you seriously. I just don't think you're right."

"Oh yeah?" the Terran exclaimed furiously. "And what do you know? You haven't come out of here for days, you haven't seen them together..."

"I did see them, Seamus," Trance interrupted. "In fact, I even had a prolonged visit from Marshall Ka-Lupe and we talked a while."

"You did?" Harper asked surprised, then frowned suspiciously. "And what did you talk about?"

"Oh, you know, this and that..." she answered him vaguely, causing a slight urge to shake her in Harper.

"No, Trance," he retorted harsher than intended, "I don't know. Like I mostly don't know what exactly you talk about with whom and why..." He exhaled exasperatedly. "You... You **all **don't understand."

"I understand that you're jealous."

"That's not it. That's not it at all. I... I just don't want to see her hurt... Again."

With a small sigh, Trance stopped her stroll and threw him a pensive look.

"Would it help you if I told you then that he and I talked about Beka? That he was here to ask me to help him make a huge bouquet of flowers for Beka? That he spoke with great admiration, warmth and sincerity of her?"

The young man looked at her doubtful and a bit insecure. Seeing his expression she sighed again, with a regretful smile on her lips.

"No, I didn't think it would. You **are **jealous, Harper!"

They resumed their walk in silence. After a while he cleared his throat.

"And?" he asked.

"And what?"

"Did you help him?"

"Of course."

"Figures," he snorted bitterly.

"Well, what was I supposed to do? Left to his own devices, he would have chopped off half the branches off Felix... Or..." She seemed to be lost in thought, trying to remember. "No, even worse: I think he would have ruined Amelia."

"Who's Amelia?"

"My water-lily," Trance said. "Come on now, Seamus, I introduced her to you so many times already. Aren't you ever paying attention to me?"

"I am, Trance, I am..." he hurried to reassure her. "It's just that right now... Look, Trance, I'm sorry, but if you won't help me, I need to go, find someone else who would."

And with that he left at high speed, stopping only briefly just outside the doors to scratch his head for a second.

"Just what is it with everyone and those damned water-lilies today?"

/

Arms crossed on his chest, casually leaning against the bulkhead next to the gym's window and intimidatingly silent , with raised eyebrows and eyes staring huge and round in utter amazement at the small man in front of him, Tyr Anasazi finally shook his head in total disbelief.

"You want me to dissuade Captain Valentine from pursuing an intimate relationship with – as humans go - one of the most eligible bachelors in the Three Galaxies?"

Harper nodded a bit embarrassed.

"Basically... yes," he then admitted, doubt written all over his face.

"You jest!" the Nietzschean stated dryly.

Again, Harper nodded in defeat.

"Yeah, that's what Dylan said, too."

"Dylan said 'You jest'?'"

"Nah," the Terran drawled, "he said of course 'you're kidding', apart from you no-one I know says 'you jest', but..."

"I am pleased to notice that our esteemed captain's survival instincts are merely dormant and not – as I sometimes feared – completely extinct," the Kodiak interrupted, "and I am relieved to see them emerge intact when desperately needed."

"Would you at least keep an eye on the two of them and..."

"And in the unlikely case that something I observe might meet with my disapproval, what do you suggest I do?"

"Alert me?"

"So that you can take what kind of action exactly?"

"I'll... I'll..." Harper stammered.

"Yes?" Tyr inquired politely, but with only slight interest.

"I'll step in, give them..."

"**Them**?"

"Beka," Harper specified. "I'll give Beka a piece of my mind."

A superior smile blossomed on the sensuous, full lips of the Kodiak.

"You could end up surprised, little professor. A piece of the mind you're in right now might turn out as a gift she won't feel inclined to accept with alacrity."


	4. Conversations to beat

_4. Conversations to beat_

They were lazily waltzing through _Andromeda_'s largest hangar-deck that had been transformed into a lavishly decorated ball room, both of them oblivious to the two pairs of blue eyes following every one of their moves from opposite sides of the huge hall.

"That was a grand closing ceremony," Man Ka-Lupe remarked. "And this is by far the best ball I've ever been invited to."

Beka burst out in laughter.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she said, leaning back into his arms encircling her waist to catch a better view of his face.

"Only to those who could deck me, if I were to say otherwise," he smiled with a fake reproach in his voice. A small cloud of regret fell over her features upon hearing him.

"Oh God, I am sorry… Does it still hurt?"

They had spent lunch-break in one of the gyms, sparring, with Ka-Lupe wearing an indulgent smile on his face until he had found himself hitting the deck hard, with Beka cowering on his ribcage, pressing him flat on his back.

"No, don't worry, I was joking… So," he continued a few seconds later after spinning her around, an action that had allowed him to afterwards draw her even closer - if possible, "what kept you away from the party for so long?"

"Just some ship-business. Nothing important, really. Harper wanted me to look over some schedules he had put up for his new engineers. Why I had to do it today, I don't know, but… he was very insistent."

"I bet he was," Ka-Lupe agreed darkly. "He'll do everything to keep you from me…"

"You noticed?" Beka teased, sounding pleased.

"Of course I noticed. By the Divine, I was completely at a loss about what to do with myself when you didn't show up…"

That was not completely true, however. Man Ka-Lupe had put the time he had to wait for Beka to join the party to good use, walking over to Dylan and sitting down for a little heart-to-heart with the man he considered his best friend. After spending the best week of his life in the company of Beka Valentine, listening to a rather impressive amount of 'Dylan says…' and 'Dylan thinks…' popping up involuntarily from her almost every other hour, the Marshall had come to the conclusion that it would be best to find out for himself what 'Dylan said' and 'thought' exactly on the subject of a certain blonde he had meanwhile come to see as the best thing that ever happened to him.

_"So," he had begun, "you hiding Beka away?"_

_His friend had nipped at his drink, smilingly._

_"No, I wouldn't even attempt at keeping Beka away from something… or someone she enjoys," Dylan said. "Last time I tried I ended up with hot coffee in my face…"_

_"Ouch…"_

_"Mr. Harper now on the other hand…"_

_"Yes," the Marshall agreed, "he seems very protective of her."_

_"Oh, we're all very protective of Beka," Dylan contradicted him, "Mr. Harper though is in addition to that also very jealous."_

_"But you're not?"_

Andromeda'_s captain held on to his friend's gaze openly._

"_You seem to make her happy."_

_"That's good enough for you?" Ka-Lupe asked directly._

_"If it's good enough for her… and for you…"_

_"And if it's not?"_

_Man Ka-Lupe didn't miss Dylan's eyes widening._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"What if I want more from Beka?"_

_The captain of the_ Andromeda _moistened his lips._

_"How much more?"_

_"I love her, Dylan," his friend simply told him. "And I think she loves me, too."_

_The other man stared at him sternly, not a muscle moving in his suddenly taut face. Silence fell and persisted._

_"What?" Man Ka-Lupe finally broke it._

_"Nothing," Dylan answered quietly. "Looks like Mr. Harper was right, after all." He shrugged, attempting a smile. "He told me days ago already that he thought you might go for it on this one…"_

_"And?"_

_The High Guard officer shook his head._

_"I dismissed it… Foolishly, as it seems now."_

_Ka-Lupe frowned._

_"Why? Are you against it? Do you think it too quick? Or do you believe Beka to not be the… marrying type? Or…"_

_"I think Beka to be whatever type she chooses," Dylan interrupted. "And believe me, I can vividly imagine how quickly_ _she… can take permanent residence in a man's life. And no, I'm not against it. I'm more than happy for the two of you; you're both great people and deserve every bit of happiness…" His voice died down, but then he cleared his throat and continued. "What do you take me for, Ka? I wish you the very best. You're one of my best friends…"_

_"And she is…?"_

_"Here." Dylan stood up, lifting one of his arms in greeting._

_"What?" Ka-Lupe asked, him too jumping to his feet and turning around._

_"She's here," Dylan repeated, his tone and eyes softening up an instant at the sight of a Beka wearing a long, simple black dress that ended in a tight turtle-neck, leaving only her arms bare – and her back, but that the two men couldn't see yet. Slapping his friend gently on a shoulder Dylan turned away. "I think, I see the Than ambassador motioning me over to her. I'll be seeing you… Best of luck, Ka, with your plan…" he concluded, hurrying away before Beka could reach them. And had Man Ka-Lupe not been blown away by the sight of her, he might have taken his time to muse a bit about how his friend's voice had wavered at the last words._

"Yes," Beka's voice now shook him up from his reminiscences, "you did look a bit lost when I came."

Her partner smiled down on her.

"That's because before the woman of his dreams answers to his pleas, every man in love is… incomplete…" he whispered. The beautiful young woman laughed up.

"Yes," she told him with a chuckle. "And then he's finished."

"That very much depends on the woman, don't you think?"

Beka scrutinized him closely, a pensive look on her face. And then she suddenly stood still, oblivious to the other dancing pairs floating all around them.

"Ka, what are you saying?" she asked him in a quiet voice.

"I'm asking for your opinion about marriage, Beka," the tall man said, firmly taking hold of her shoulders.

"A lovely institution," the blonde answered dryly. "However, I'm not sure that I am quite ready for… an institution."

"Beka, please! Would you marry me?"

"No, but we can have dinner together."

He couldn't prevent a smile showing on his lips, but then shook his head.

"I'm serious, Beka."

"So am I, Ka. Listen: why don't we take this slowly? I'll ask Dylan for a vacation tonight. I come with you, you show me Lundmark, we take some time for ourselves. And then we'll see."

Laughing up relieved that she had not refused him flatly, he engulfed her in an embrace, right there and then, with both of them still standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"Sounds like a plan, Miss Valentine, sounds like a wonderful plan!"

At the far sides of the room, far away from them and from each other, two pairs of blue eyes – one of them furious, the other one insecure – seemed to disagree.


	5. Greeneyed monster, the second

_5. Green-eyed monster, the second_

"Dylan, would you have a look at that and tell me if it's all right with you?"

_Andromeda_'s captain turned away from his station and automatically grabbed the flexi his first officer was holding out for him. Although he only briefly glanced over it, Harper - standing at the navigation console - could see his face falling and his own heart nearly missed a beat. It lasted only a second before Dylan's usual mask of calmness was firmly back in place.

"Of course," he nodded, placing the flexi carefully in his jacket's pocket, "the conference is over, you are free to go. How long do you plan to stay away?"

"I don't know," Beka answered, "the request is for two weeks, but if that's too long..."

"No!" Dylan interrupted her hastily, in no way reacting to Harper's desperate gestures behind the pilot's back. "No, really, that's all right. We owe you more than 8 weeks leave, so the two you're asking for are actually quite a bargain."

She scrutinised him doubtfully, but he did not avert his eyes from her, continuing to look at her openly. No, he wasn't kidding, he really seemed to mean it. Nodding her thanks to him, she turned around to leave again, at the last moment catching from the corner of her eye a furtive glance of Dylan's to someplace behind her head. Instead of continuing for the door, she spun on her heel, surprising Harper, who was still waving his arms at Dylan as if he was about to direct a whole squadron of fighters manually somewhere. The young man's arms dropped along his sides as soon as he noticed her staring at him with what could only be described as a disapproving glare.

"What's going on, Harper?" Beka asked in a chilling, deceptively quiet tone.

"N... Not... Nothing..." the engineer stammered, desperately trying to avoid her eyes.

"Are _Andromeda_'s filter systems not working?"

"Why wouldn't they be working?"

"Because you look as if you're trying to chase away some flies..."

"Ha, ha!" the young man said sarcastically. "No, I just tried to make Dylan remember that he can't let you go... I mean, not now that this... this... thing is coming up..."

"Thing? What thing?" Dylan and Beka both asked at the same time.

Harper rolled his eyes, opening them wildly towards his captain.

"Well, you know... the... thing..."

"Why, Harper, strange as you might seem at times, I would never refer to you as a 'thing'..." Beka said ironically. Silence fell between the three of them, only to be finally interrupted by the Terran's voice.

"Beka..." he said in a pleading tone.

"Yes, Harper?" she inquired sounding still distant and cold.

"Beka, please don't go!"

"And why not?"

"Beka..."

"Look," Dylan cut in, "do the two of you really think my presence is required for this conversation?"

"Oh no, of course it's not!" Harper exclaimed, turning on the older man with furious eyes. "After all **you**... you can't be bothered with the petty, trivial, little problems your friends, comrades and de facto only people who give a damn' about you in the whole universe are facing – like losing each other, for instance. Whether we are safe, happy and content is none of **your **business. You're only there to decide on the really important stuff, like whether some obscure planet or other should be allowed to join the Commonwealth..." he concluded, contempt and disappointment written all over his face.

"Mr. Harper, that's quite enough!" Dylan thundered.

"Harper," Beka cut in, trying to reason with him, "you're not losing me. I'm going on a vacation, for crying out loud. And anyway, Dylan's right: if we're going to have this conversation, we don't need him hanging around." With that she turned towards the _Andromeda_'s captain, crossing her arms on her chest and looking at him expectantly. Silence descended again, while all three of them kept eyeing each other.

"Well?" Harper asked at last.

"Well?" Dylan echoed his question.

"Well," Beka joined them in a similar tone, "aren't you going to leave?"

The Vedran cleared his throat.

"We're on Command; my shift started about half an hour ago. You're off-duty and you, Mr. Harper, are dismissed for the time being," he explained awkwardly.

"Oh!" the engineer exclaimed sheepishly.

"Oh, right!" Beka added. Clasping a hand on Harper's shoulder she pushed him slightly forward. "Dylan's right, Seamus, let's get out of here!"

A bit calmer the younger man nodded to her and went ahead, followed by the _Maru_'s captain. At the doors she stopped and turned around once more, smiling warmly towards the man left behind.

"Dylan, thanks again!"

"For what?"

"For letting me leave."

He shrugged slightly embarrassed.

"It was part of the deal..." he muttered awkwardly.

"Deal?" Beka inquired a bit puzzled.

"That as far as possible you're free to come and go as you please."

"Oh, THAT deal," she exclaimed with a small chuckle. "Much good did it do me so far." With a slight nod, she turned again to leave.

"Beka!" This time it was Dylan calling her back.

She threw him a look over the shoulder. He stood there alone next to his station on Command, looking a bit lost and somehow disheartened.

"Beka," he repeated, only to fall silent again.

"What?" she asked him, trying to sound as friendly as she possibly could. Noticing the gentleness in her tone, Dylan sighed.

"You're free to come and go," he told her again, his voice so very quiet she had to strain her ears to properly hear him. "You're free to come and go and... come back. Please, Beka!"

She grinned warmly and yet also a bit teasing.

"Goodness, Dylan, don't spoil all the effort! You were doing so well up until now: I really thought so far Harper was the only one..."


	6. Nietzschean Insights

_6. Nietzschean Insights_

„The boy is quite right, Captain!"

Startled by the voice coming out of one of _Andromeda_'s conduit, Dylan spun around on his heel, walking over to the bulkhead.

"Tyr!" he exclaimed annoyed, ignoring the remark and concentrating on the presence. "What are you doing in there?"

"Checking," the Nietzschean replied, easing himself out of narrow passage past a Dylan Hunt who was blocking half of it and seemed reluctant to kindly move out of the way.

"Checking on what?"

"The weapons' control."

"Is something wrong with it?"

The Kodiak turned wide, ironic eyes towards the man.

"With what?" he asked maliciously.

"The weapons' control!" Dylan exclaimed, exasperated. "What are we talking about?"

The huge, dark warrior shrugged.

"The weapons' control's just fine. If that's what we're talking about..." he replied indifferently. For a short moment Dylan fixed him with narrowed eyes, then turned around and stalked over to his station. Tyr waited for a moment, but when nothing else came he walked himself over to his own console. "The boy is right, Dylan," he stated again in a calm voice. "And if you don't see that, you're a bigger fool than I would have thought."

The captain stopped in his task and stared at his panels for a second, completely motionless. But he continued displaying a discouraging amount of calmness.

"Well," he drawled, "that hardly seems possible, does it?"

"Indeed," Anasazi agreed with him. "Makes one wonder, hmm?"

Once more Dylan ceased all activity, then – with a sigh – turned around to face him.

"Tyr," he scanted in a strained, yet precise tone, "what do you want from me? What do you people all suggest that I should do? What do you think I **can** do?"

"You can fight it, Dylan."

"How? And more to the point: why? If they are happy together, if they have a chance at making this work, then why in the name of the Vedran Empress should I or anyone else interfere? And most importantly: on which grounds? What right do I have?"

The Nietzschean eyed him calmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We all have the right to do something about it, Dylan," he finally replied. "You, me, Harper... We all have the right that every man has who's been made miserable by a woman's decision."

A bitter laugh escaped from the High Guard.

"We're being made miserable by our decisions, Tyr, not hers. **Our** decisions!" He drew a deep breath. "How often have you wished for Beka to be Nietzschean? How often do you think that Mr. Harper had a chance of growing up and proving to her that he is something more than the scared boy she once rescued? How many times do you think did I wish for us to be someone else, to have met somewhere different, under other circumstances? However, none of us ever acted upon our wishes. It's not **her** decisions making us miserable." He sighed and motioned to turn back to his task. "Besides," he continued lowly on his way there, his tone displaying a vague note of mockery, "isn't it the Nietzschean way to accept the alpha female's decision?"

"That's just my point, Captain! You are no Nietzschean. And for once this might work to your advantage. Especially since there is also your precious Commonwealth to be considered in this matter."

"I won't ask Beka once again to disregard her own hopes and wishes and happiness for our sake, Mr. Anasazi. The Commonwealth is in place – and if it's to survive, it will have to learn to stand on its own two feet, regardless of the individuals who are there to protect it. We all are and must be expendable. I won't ask more of Beka on behalf of it. She's done enough."

"Drago's Bones, man! Does this noble act never get tiring?" the Kodiak exploded. "Besides: if she leaves, and we stay back without her and go on with the fight..."

"Of course we go on with it. The Abyss won't just go away because Beka wants to marry and live happily ever after," Dylan interrupted.

"And then what?" Tyr asked, rising an ironic eye-brow. "Suppose we win without her and she hears of our fights while she sits at home, presiding over her husband's household and political career, raising kids and entertaining high-profile guests... Oh yes, just the spot I imagine Captain Valentine would want to be in when the time comes. Or worse: suppose we fight and lose and die trying while she sits at home... Really, Dylan? She'd never forgive herself if that were to happen."

Satisfied, the Nietzschean noticed the captain's jaw muscles grind.

"If that were to happen, she'll get over it. We all do, eventually. Ka would be there to help her. If she loves him..."

"How do you know she loves him?"

"Well," Dylan answered, "they've inseparable for a week now. She looks happy..."

"What if it's just him making her feel good?" Anasazi asked, stepping close enough to Dylan that they nearly touched.

"Tyr, they are together."

"So what? You're not Nietzscheans. To the likes of you that means something different."

Dylan frowned:

"The likes of us?"

"Yes," the Kodiak said sternly, "just as sex is some sort of sport or game like throwing hoops or playing Go to you, to Beka it is nothing but a polite way of saying 'thanks' when one's nice to her..."

He never saw it coming. Tyr's head jerked to the right while the other side of his face exploded in pain when the back of Dylan's hand connected with it. Silence descended on Command, with the Vedran staring wide-eyed at his weapons' officer who – straightening his neck in slow-motion – moved a hand up to cup his chin with it, moving his lower jaw from left to right and gently probing at it.

"I..." _Andromeda_'s captain stammered, "I'm sorry... I don't know..."

"I do," the Nietzschean cut his attempts at apologising short, turning around to leave. "You're a fool, Dylan Hunt. I'm not the one this was directed to – and you damn' well know it. Do something about it."


	7. Unpleasant explanations

_7. Unpleasant Explanations_

"Harper, have you gone insane?"

Arms crossed on her chest, a frown between her brows, Beka Valentine was impatiently drumming with her foot while staring indignantly at the young man in front of her. She had stormed his machine shop right after leaving Command, sternly determined to demand and get an explanation for the strange behaviour her friend was displaying as of late – and put an end to it.

"No, but I think you have..." the Terran answered her defiantly. The woman's frown deepened.

"What? Because for once I'm trying to do things the right way, checking, taking my time and doing things slowly?"

"Slowly?" Harper exclaimed with a shriek. "Ha! Slowly, my ass! Beka..."

"Harper, that's enough!" _Andromeda_'s first officer suddenly thundered in full XO-mode. "I don't recall when exactly I have given you a right to vote on my private life."

"Never," the young man admitted. "That's just my point: time and again you just go ahead and let some galactic hot-shot or other impress you out of your wits, break your heart and then..."

"Then what?" Beka cut in, in a deceptively calm tone.

"Then I and Dylan and Tyr are left with picking up the pieces..." As soon as the words had left his mouth, Harper drew in a sharp breath. Staring wide-eyed at his friend, obviously aware that he had ventured out on very thin ice, he shut his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together as if afraid that more similar outbursts might erupt from where the last one had come from.

A thin, small, cruel smile appeared on Beka's lips. Seeing it, Harper wanted to withdraw a few steps. Swallowing dryly, he finally resolved to stand his ground though. But he found it hard to hold on to Beka's eyes, that were slowly, almost in slow-motion narrowing to slits while at the same time the smile turned to a grin. It was not a pleasant sight, to say the least.

"Why, Harper," she sweetly and softly murmured in the end, "won't it be grand if from now on I just spare you all the trouble?"

She spun around on her heels and headed for the doors.

"Beka!"

In a flash Harper was by her side, grabbing for her shoulders and attempting – in vain – to turn her around and stop her. He was however no match for her. With a violent shrug she freed herself from his grasp, causing him to stumble and almost fall forward. He would have landed on the deck, had Beka not in a reflex taken mercy on him and steadied him by placing a supporting hand below his elbow.

"Harper," she admonished him with a sigh, "it really isn't worth breaking your neck over this."

With a smile, clearly warmer than her previous grimaced resemblance of one, she sustained him by his forearms.

"Beka!" he repeated again, the pleading look in his eyes desperate enough to melt down a heart of stone. Which Beka did not possess, as Harper was well aware of. "Please, we'd miss you so much!" he whispered with a sob. Her face softened further. And then, being Harper, he of course simply blew it.

"Besides," he felt compelled to add, "it's not as if he needs you: a man like Ka can get as many chicks as he likes. We, however, really need you..."

Her expression hardening again, Beka released him.

"Has it ever occurred to you, Harper," she spat at him angrily, "that there could come a time though, when I might decide that I no longer need **you**?"

He looked taken aback.

"You... you don't really mean that..." he stammered somewhat lost.

Again her eyes narrowed. She stared at him for a second, then pushed him back into the room.

"Sit down," Beka ordered him sharply.

"Beka..." the engineer attempted.

"Dammit, siddown, Harper!" she bellowed again at him.

The young man complied, suddenly deciding that he might have pushed her far enough for one day. He let himself fall on some sort of divan that he had placed in the right far corner of his machine shop. Pressing his lips together in stubborn muteness, he followed Beka Valentine, who had begun pacing up and down in front of him, with restless eyes.

"Tell me, Harper," the blonde finally began hesitatingly, "what makes you think you need me? More precisely: why do you think **you** need me? And why should the others need me? What do you think?"

The question took him completely by surprise.

"Well," he shrugged, somewhat at a loss as to what to say to her, "well, I mean... it's... It's obvious..." he stammered at long last. Then, after a brief pause: "Isn't it?" The last part came in a small, quiet voice.

Eyeing him carefully, Beka bit her lip, then shook her head in sadness.

"No, it's not," she answered, in a similarly still tone. She resumed her pacing, then – after a while – began explaining herself:

"I used to think like you, I used to think you need me. But... the past year's been so... awkward. And now I don't think so anymore."

"Why not?"

"Look, Harper, ever since I joined with Dylan, _Andromeda_ and I have grown closer and closer together. But over the past months she..." Beka shook her head, searching for words, then sighed. "The Commonwealth's in place – and Rommie is... at home, fitting in, busy finding her place in the fleet."

"Maybe," Harper admitted, "but that's only natural."

"I'm not saying that it isn't natural. I just notice that it is the way it is. It's probably even a good thing, just as it might be good that Trance has grown up. Only: I liked the old Trance and, much as I try, I do have some trouble with the fact that I seem to understand even less about who and what she is or where she comes from and the things that she might want here than ever before."

"I know what you mean," the engineer agreed with her. Beka nodded.

"Yes, I thought you might."

"But..." Harper threw in pleadingly, "but, Beka: what about the rest of us?"

"The rest of you? What rest, Harper? You mean Tyr?"

Now Tyr was not exactly who the young man had in mind, but he nodded nonetheless. The woman shrugged.

"I feel like I'm missing a beat or two about Rommie – and that I understand even less about Trance. But Tyr... Now Tyr really, really scares me as of late: he's got a son from Freya, whom he's been hiding away ever since the Genites' attack, the way he went about the Orca business, this Medea-chick, his... thing with Dylan about Drago's bones..."

"Hang on a second: what bones?"

Beka bit her lips.

"Never mind," she uttered hastily. "Anyway, as far as Tyr is concerned, I not only fail to see how I might fit in with him... I can't even remotely divine how any of us fits into his plans nor what these plans might be in the long run."

Harper looked at her pensively. She was voicing some of his own concerns, that had emerged almost out of no-where over the past months. Harper could not have pinpointed what was troubling him about the Nietzschean's behaviour, only that he felt that Tyr had grown somehow weird and distant... But then again, so had Dylan. And Beka... Harper frowned at a sudden thought crossing his mind: had he become this way, too?

"What about me?" he asked lowly. "I mean... I mean: knowing all of this, you'd leave me all alone here?"

Beka smiled indulgently.

"Harper," she said, much in the tone of a lightly scolding parent. Seeing his features darkening, she sighed. "Come on, Seamus. Be honest with yourself: if you were to choose between me and Rommie, who would you pick?"

His mouth fell open in amazement.

"Are you jealous?"

Beka laughed up.

"Maybe." Then, seeing him dumbfounded: "No, Harper, I understand. Really, I do. Rommie is something like your child, your masterpiece, your most treasured stroke of genius. Of course she has to come first. And then comes the _Andromeda_. And then come all the others brilliant ideas populating that remarkable head of yours. And then I suspect comes nothing for a rather long time, since you are much too busy..."

He grinned lopsidedly and raised his index finger:

"Ahh, but then it's you..."

Beka laughed good-humouredly, raising an ironic eyebrow.

"Yes, but then comes I..." she mocked. "I know. I never doubted that of all breathing things around you, you always liked me best. Only: it's a long list before anyone of us can really captivate and hold your attention."

Harper chewed on the inner side of his cheek, eyeing her pensively.

"Do you think this is why I don't seem to get any girl to... you know, to like me?" he asked in the end.

She shrugged.

"I strongly suspect it might. Besides: Rommie is some competition, you know. There aren't many out there to pick a fight with her..." Beka gave him some more food for thought. _Especially not over you_, she added silently, but refrained from saying this loud. Sweet as he was, Harper always suffered from a strong foot-in-mouth syndrome when around something female, which made scenarios of girls battling Rommie for him even less likely.

Harper sighed. That was some insight Beka had just provided him with. Maybe she was right. Still...

"Still: I love you, Beka," he said out loud.

"I know that. But I want someone to love me more than anyone or anything else."

"And you think Ka does that?"

"Maybe, maybe not. That's what I want to find out..."

"And where does that leave Dylan?"

Beka sighed.

"Here. With you. On the _Andromeda_. Busy defending the Restored Systems' Commonwealth, pretending that things are back to the way they used to be in the old days and searching the galaxies for some miraculous new Sarah, who could provide him with whatever he thinks was snatched from him when the universe threw him into that black hole."

"That's stupid," Harper muttered. "He'll never find her, and then what?"

The young woman shrugged indifferently.

"Then he'll keep adding all sorts of names and faces to his heartbreak list, feeling more and more wronged, lonely and miserable and blaming everyone for it in the end."

"Maybe someone should tell him..." Harper suggested vaguely. Beka shook her head.

"You tried to tell me once with Bobby, remember? And then you tried to tell me with Leydon, right? And now, you're trying to tell me with Ka, but I don't listen. Neither will Dylan, Seamus. Those are things everyone has to find out on their own."

"So you know that this isn't what you're looking for?"

"I know that this **might not** be it, Harper. But I intend to find the proof that things are one way or the other all alone. Understood?"


	8. Reflections and consequences

_8. Reflections and Consequences_

Tyr Anasazi, still gingerly probing at his lip that had been split by Dylan's backhand, was quickly approaching the quarters of _Andromeda_'s engineer in a slightly urgent seeming manner. Distracted, he omitted to respond to any crew-members, who were deferentially greeting him along the way, but that didn't matter: no-one was likely to complain to him about it later, a fact owed less to his position as _Andromeda_'s third-in-command as to the circumstance that – a few newly appointed Nietzschean lancers from Terrazed set aside – he could easily dismember everyone else onboard with his bare hands.

The imposing Kodiak was deep in thought. The development in the Valentine-matter was... interesting, to say the very least. And Dylan Hunt's behaviour not helpful at all.

When Seamus Harper had approached the Nietzschean at first, Tyr had dismissed the issue as yet another one of the boy's regularly occurring – and somewhat artificially exaggerated – states of excitement. For some reason or other the Terran seemed to live in some sort of constant internal alert-mode, that needed permanent feeding with more or less plausible reasons in order to be maintained. Why it had to be maintained in the first place escaped Tyr Anasazi. To his mind such an upholding of a maximised level of agitation was nothing if not exhausting. The boy though seemed to thrive on it like an adrenaline-junkie, which probably came pretty close to the truth, as Tyr suspected.

It was thus only natural that the Kodiak had originally disposed of Harper's worries as of one more example of the typical wool-gathering usually coming from the engineer. The more so as – among the many things in the universe Harper deemed worthy of worrying about – fidgeting about the other crew-members' love-life in general and Beka Valentine's in particular seemed to be a front runner on his list.

But once alerted to it, Tyr Anasazi began to observe more closely the relationship developing between _Andromeda_'s first officer and Marshall Ka-Lupe. And what he saw didn't please him.

He had for nearly three years now been living, fighting, sharing all sorts of dangers and blessings with Rebekkah Valentine, and Hunt was right: he had more than once ardently wished for her to be Nietzschean, for him to not have been committed to his Kodiak duties. And even though Tyr knew such wishes to be futile, this knowledge had not prevented him from occasionally allowing himself to... well, dream a little. Not that he believed that any of this dreaming would ever have a chance of becoming reality. But if it wasn't to happen: **that** was not Beka's, but **his** call alone to make. That was, of course, not in keeping with Nietzschean tradition, however Tyr was honest enough with himself to admit that a great many of the things he had done, thought and felt over the past years had not exactly been in keeping with the Nietzschean ways either. One more attitude disregarding them didn't really matter, especially not one involving what he believed to be his prerogative of claiming Captain Valentine's attention for himself.

As things went onboard the_ Andromeda Ascendant_, even without someone coming from outside and meddling with it, this priority of his was a shaky, uncertain business and difficult enough to maintain anyway: all his care for keeping Beka in top shape, all his quiet support of many of her moods and whims didn't seem enough to gain him a status similar to the unconditional camaraderie that existed between the _Maru_'s captain and Seamus Zelasny Harper. As to the symbiotic relationship the two commanding officers of the _Andromeda_ seemed to share with each other... Tyr had long ago given up on even attempting to understand that or to find an explanation as to why they didn't put it to a better use, Nietzschean style, of course.

There were times though when both Harper and Dylan seemed to alienate their extraordinary friend. It happened far more often than the times when she was cross with Tyr – and the Kodiak resigned himself to then just count his blessings and enjoy it while it lasted. She was dashing, fiery, extremely entertaining and – if not taken seriously – the best flirt he could think of. Not that Nietzscheans knew much about flirting. But living close to Captain Rebekkah Valentine one got to learn many skills. Some of which Tyr Anasazi had begun to grow fond of. Oh yes, she was as close to a Nietzschean as a kludge could ever hope to get. And yes, he had been often wishing that...

Anyway, Nietzschean or not Nietzschean, Beka was a strong, independent presence – and she belonged to them. If someone was to sweep her off her feet, that one was him. Or Dylan. Or even Harper. But not some Commonwealth hot-shot who – on top of everything else – had merely months ago needed them **and** Beka to protect his sorry excuse of a kludge-life! Yes, he could recall telling Harper that Man Ka-Lupe was one of the most eligible bachelors in the Known Worlds. Yet Tyr was not impressed. Intrigued, a bit puzzled,... slightly pissed off maybe. But certainly not impressed.

Besides: Tyr Anasazi had plans, many plans. Some of them involving his _Andromeda_ crew-mates, some excluding them. Which path was best to walk down, which course was most appropriate to see his dreams come true, the Kodiak didn't know yet. Either way, each one of his fellow officers – kludges, machines or purple/golden _whatevers_ – was in his or her own right a remarkable individual with awesome, breath-taking skills. And it was far, far better to have them all in one place, instead of scattered all over the galaxies. Weary of each other, at times on the edge, not always and maybe not even completely trustful, but all in one place, where he could always see them.

/

"Mr Harper!"

"Tyr, what happened to your face?" the engineer asked, hardly able to suppress a grin. There were many advantages of living on a warship and – as her engineer – being her best friend. Especially when one forgot to engage privacy mode and said war-ship had a female personality and liked gossiping.

"I... ran into a door," _Andromeda_'s weapons' officer replied curtly.

"Into a door named Dylan?" Harper couldn't resist. Upon hearing a low growl from the huge man at his entrance, the Terran hastily retreated into the messy vastness of machine shop 5.

"So," he obligingly hurried forward, "what can I do for you?"

"It actually is more a matter of 'what can **I** do for **you**?'," the Nietzschean replied.

Harper turned around, facing him with surprise.

"How so?" he wanted to know.

"Do you still plan on...putting certain _concerned _limits to Captain Valentine's newest... emotional endeavours, or has she meanwhile managed to convinced you to leave well enough alone?"

"Tyr..." Harper said with a slight reproach. "You should know me better. Not that she hasn't tried. Or wasn't convincing..."

"But?" the Kodiak asked with mild interest.

"But we're talking Beka and a gorgeous guy here. And gorgeous guys and Beka... they don't go well together."

"Maybe this time..." Anasazi carefully laid out the bait. Harper eyed him thoughtfully, keeping silent for a moment.

"No," he then stated firmly, shaking his head. "No way. Just look at her with you. Or Dylan. I mean..."

"Well then, Mr Harper..."

"Why are you asking?"

"I was about to explain when you interrupted," the Nietzschean admonished him.

"Oh, sorry. Okay, spit it out, Tyr," Harper prompted him, hopping up onto a long metal table. "Do you have a plan?"

"I believe so."

"A good one?"

"Pretty good, I think."

"You sure?"

"Dead sure, Mr Harper, absolutely dead sure."

There was something about Tyr Anasazi's way to pronounce words involving death that always struck Harper as utterly convincing.


	9. Ancient traditions

_9. Ancient traditions_

Man Ka-Lupe straightened out his dinner jacket, lifted his eyes clearing his throat, and then found himself staring voicelessly at the sight the opening doors revealed: the space behind them was almost a ballroom, a at least 50 m long hall that seemed however not more than 10 m wide, which made it look somewhat like a gallery, too. The walls were adorned with enormous panels in richly gilded frames, reminding of huge mirrors, with small, elaborate tables adorned with flowers and art objects of all sorts beneath them. It looked like a room more appropriate for a museum rather than a warship, an impression strengthened by the fact that the panels changed their appearance as soon as one came closer, revealing slowly altering holographic portrays of all sort of people Ka-Lupe knew nothing about.

"Wow!" he exclaimed lowly.

Coming over to greet him, Harper and Trance laughed up under the mildly amused gaze of Tyr Anasazi.

"Impressive, huh?" the engineer grinned, outstretching his hand.

"Good evening, Marshall!" Trance spurted out at the same time, flashing a charming smile at their guest.

Taking the young man's hand Man Ka-Lupe nodded lightly, smiling back at her over the Terran's head.

"Miss Trance, you look lovely! Good evening, Mr Harper. Mr Anasazi..."

"I'm glad you accepted this invitation, Marshall," the Nietzschean made his opening. "I would have hated to see you leave without an opportunity for the two of us to get a bit better acquainted."

"Indeed," the Marshall nodded, "so would I. However, we seem to be a couple of people short. Am I too early?" he asked with polite concern.

"Nah," Harper irreverently dismissed his objection. "Rommie is on duty, Beka has sent word that she's been delayed – and Dylan's always late..."

"He is?" Ka seemed surprised. As did Trance, who threw a questioning look at the engineer, who was for once wearing a sumptuous, if somewhat oddly scarlet-coloured, velvety jacket. "Strange, I never noticed..."

"Yeah, I call tell ya'," the younger man began to elaborate, "_Andromeda'_s auto-chef is regularly close to getting completely fried for having to delay state dinners for hours..."

"Well, let's hope this doesn't happens tonight," Dylan's friend expressed good-naturedly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Mr Harper has it all under control," Tyr Anasazi offered.

"I'm sure," their guest agreed with a smile.

"So," Harper rejoined the conversation, lightly rubbing his hands against each other, "shall we shorten the wait by taking a closer look at the gallery?"

"By all means. I didn't even know there is something like this onboard the _Andromeda_." Man Ka-Lupe sounded impressed and delighted.

"It is reserved for only the very grand occasions," Trance elaborated. Their guest's eyebrows rose inquiringly.

"You just had several ceremonies held onboard over this past week," he ventured.

"The really very, very, very grand occasions..." the golden girl stressed with a puppy-eyed look on her face, reminding Harper of her old, purple self. It was endearing and didn't fail to leave the desired impression.

"I see. I'm very honoured," Ka-Lupe told her, bowing lightly down to her.

"Look, you're Dylan's friend and now you're Beka's sweetheart," Harper began apologetically, "and I've been... well, a bit nasty with you over the past days..."

"No, Mr Harper really, I understand," the older man interrupted him.

"You do?" Tyr queried with a surprised undertone. "In that case, you are more gracious than most of us here onboard..."

They had meanwhile passed along the first panels and came to stand in front of one of the central ones. The shifting flow of images stopped, displaying the hologram of a huge, proud Nietzschean.

"My great-great-great-great grandfather," the Kodiak informed him.

"The panels are programmed to show the lineage of all crew-members currently serving on the _Andromeda_, and they also store visuals of all former crew," explained Trance. "They recognise the DNA-pattern of the ones standing right in front of them and then focus on that person's family."

"A most ingenious ancestral portray gallery, if I ever saw one..." the Marshall murmured admiringly.

"It sure is, designed by yours truly..." Harper couldn't resist to brag, stepping closer. As he approached the panel, the image changed again, showing now a slim, almost delicate man wearing a coat similar to Harper's. Man Ka-Lupe turned smilingly around to face him.

"One of yours, I presume?"

"Oh yes, Count Andjzey Zelasny Lutoslawsky. He was a Polish aristocrat, the first one in my mother's family to moved to Boston." The Terran sounded proud.

"A count!"

"And an inventor!" Harper told him further. "He came up with an idea for intelligent fabric, that never gets old or dirty or shabby... Developed a new line of clothes... Made a fortune with it, too."

"Ah, a designer. I noticed that you're wearing a similar jacket. You must be a traditionalist..."

"Nah," Harper fended off, "no traditionalist, I'm just poorly paid: it's not a similar jacket, it is the same!"

"Goodness! It must be ancient!"

"It is. About 1752 years old. Like I said, intelligent clothes... If you'd be wearing such a coat and I would get bored with your conversation, I could sit down and have a good talk with your jacket..."

"A... provocative thought," Ka-Lupe admitted, not sounding the least bit provoked by the young man's slight impertinence. "Boston, Earth?" he then asked, after a moment of silence.

"Precisely."

"Go figure. That's where my family started out about 500 years ago," the Marshall said.

"Hey, whaddaya know?" Harper exclaimed. "Maybe my folks and yours knew each other..."

"I doubt that, Mr Harper. There were no rich people on my side. My folks used to be cops, not counts."

"Oh," the engineer said sheepishly. Then, with an engaging smile: "And now you're a VIP and I am keeping two ships past their prime together... Well, that's how life wags!"

The hologram of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ flickered up next to them.

"'Past their prime', hm? Why, thank you, Harper!" she sharply remarked.

"Oops, Rommie. I.. I meant... after so many battles and..." he stammered under her stern expression, his voice eventually fading out.

For a moment the ship glared at him severely, then showed a slight pout.

"I see. None taken," she concluded, disappearing just as abruptly as she had showed up.

"Oops indeed," Man Ka-Lupe said into the silence.

"She... she'll get over it."

"Maybe you could offer her one of your ancestor's old designs to make up..." the other man suggested.

"They were all lost."

"A pity."

"He had to leave Boston in a hurry after killing three men," Harper explained.

"What an interesting figure!"

"Yes, isn't it? But he was no murderer. He... killed them in duels, you know."

"I beg your pardon?" the Marshall exclaimed incredulously. "What did they have any duels about?"

"Well, a woman, of course. Back in those days men didn't use to fight over other men, you know..."

Man cleared his throat.

"Yes, well," he meant, still in a puzzled tone, "but..."

"He lived shortly after the Caspic Wars that had decimated especially the female population."

"I know, still... A duel?"

"Why not?" Tyr Anasazi cut in. "Previous to that and due to the... shortage on females separations and divorces were the rule of the day on Earth. Statistics show that after they took up again the old tradition of duels, divorce rates dropped in numbers. Considerably."

"Probably because the number of both husbands and lovers also must have dropped considerably," Trance considered aloud.

"Well..." Tyr shrugged, conceding the point.

"Still, it does seem like a good idea, especially in view of the latest developments in all our lives, doesn't it?" asked Harper, throwing Man Ka-Lupe a challenging look. Silence fell, while the Marshall scrutinised the shorter man as if trying to determine whether he had lost his mind.

"Mr Harper," he finally said crisply, "you're not seriously suggesting for you and me to fight a duel over Beka?"

"And why not?" Harper replied in an aggressive tone. "I mean, by the looks of it you are a decent man. You wouldn't dream of coming here and say... steal my nano-welder, Rommie's avatar, one of Trance's plants, Tyr's punching-bag or Dylan's Go-board. However, when it comes to stealing Beka away from us..."

"Mr Harper, I am not **stealing **Beka," Ka-Lupe cut him off. "Besides, the others all seem a lot more relaxed on the matter."

All three _Andromeda _officers looked unconvinced.

"Really?" Harper mocked. "You should've talked to Dylan."

"I **did **talk to Dylan about it, and I could notice that **he **didn't seem to mind."

"You might want to notice a bit harder," Tyr suggested mildly, crossing his arms on his chest and meeting Lupe's slightly inquiring gaze head-on. After another moment of silence the Marshall shook his head in disbelief.

"You're serious," he stated to Harper. The engineer nodded. The older man sighed. "I don't suppose we could settle this with a... nice game of Go or something?"

A thin smile appeared on Tyr's lips: this could have come from Dylan.

"We could," Harper grinned, "but that would not be really in keeping with tradition. Besides: just imagine me telling Beka that I challenged you to fight for her in a duel and you preferred to win her in a board-..."

"Yes, all right, all right!" his opponent hastily threw in. "I still think it crazy, stupid, primitive and barbaric."

"But very impressive," Trance dreamily inserted. "Not that I approve of..." she then hurried to make clear upon seeing all three men eyeing her in surprise.

"Good thing you feel that way, Trance," Harper told her.

"Why?"

"Because we need seconds for a proper duel. I can take Tyr and..."

"Seconds?" Ka-Lupe echoed. "You don't suggest now that for a proper duel I have to fight you while Trance fights Tyr, or do you?"

"No, we're merely needed to assist you," Tyr explained. "See to it that the two of you stick to the rules."

"What rules?"

"First of all: what weapons do you choose?" the Kodiak asked.

"Forcelances, not extended," Harper answered immediately. Man Ka-Lupe threw him a pensive look.

"You really thought this through..." he murmured. "Why not extended?"

The young man shrugged:

"Less exhausting."

"Right," Tyr agreed. Two lances appeared out of no-where in his hands. He held them out for the two other men to take them, who complied silently, both starting to check them. "Now go take your places back to back in the middle of the gallery. Trance and I will join you. We stay there, you two move towards the ends of the room, fifteen steps each. I'll be counting them loud for you. When you reach the end you turn around, Trance counts to three, you shoot until first blood is drawn. That's it. If you shoot sooner, you'll be charged with deliberate assault and battery or even – should one of you kill the other – with murder."

"We're under Commonwealth-law," Ka-Lupe objected. "If one kills the other, there'll be a murder-charge no matter what rules we follow..."

"A win-win situation," Harper commented dryly. "In that case we'd both be heroically going to our deaths for Beka."

Man Ka-Lupe rolled his eyes.

"Great. I can't believe I'm doing this..."

"If you gentlemen are through with talking to each other now..." Tyr snarled sharply. And, as both men fell silent and took their positions: "Good. Now start walking. 1... 2... 3... 4..."


	10. Ricochet

_10. Ricochet_

_Andromeda_'s two commanding officers, out of breath and both with weapons drawn, burst at high speed through the opening doors, their drive carrying them well into the room before they came sliding to a halt.

Right to the left of the entrance one of the giant panels was sending sparkles out of a giant hole, bits and pieces of its gilded frame trickling to the deck in a persistent, if irregular rain of particles forming a cloud of dust around the boots of a completely dazzled looking Man Ka-Lupe, whose hand was limply hanging along his side, the force-lance still in his weak fingers. At the far end of the long hall Seamus Zelasny Harper was lying propped up against the bulkhead, his right hand tightly clasped around his upper arm, blood seeping through his fingers. Trance was kneeling right beside him, obviously fussing about him and trying to dislodge the tight grip of his hand around the wound, while Tyr was examining the damage done to the panel with mild curiosity.

"What the hell is going on here?" an abruptly stopping Beka barked, raising the barrel of her gun into the air upon taking in the details of the scene.

Unlike her, Dylan swirled around on his heel, pointing his force lance at the Marshall's head.

"Drop your lance!" he ordered in a deadly quiet tone. Instead of obeying, his friend raised both his hands on shoulder-level, the weapon still loosely in his hand.

"Dylan, you don't think..."

"I think that one of my friends and crew-members is lying over there bleeding, and that you're the only one around with a weapon in his hand. I said: drop it. Right now," _Andromeda_'s captain replied, his voice unwavering and cold, the outstretched arm with his force lance rock-steady, his eyes focused and unblinking. Ka-Lupe's hand opened and the force lance hit the deck with a metallic 'clung'. For a second Dylan continued to aim at him, but then a soft hiss indicated that his weapon was powering down and in a softly flowing, swift move it quickly disappeared into its holster. It seemed as if a breathe of relief was sweeping through the whole room.

"Now," the High Guard officer thundered, "you heard Captain Valentine: what the hell is going on?"

"You're not gonna believe it," his friend murmured.

"Try me. It obviously involves Trance, Tyr and Mr Harper. I sure as hell will be thunderstruck, but there isn't much I won't believe where the three of them coming up with an improbable scenario are concerned."

"I didn't have anything to do with it!" Trance exclaimed.

"You didn't have anything to do with what, Trance?" Beka asked in a voice as cold and impersonal as Dylan's, slowly approaching her and Harper and crouching down next to him. "Seamus?" she demanded upon seeing Trance struggling for words.

"I... I..."

"Yes?" she queried, her fingers probing at his arm a lot more tender than her eyes.

"I'm in pain, boss," the engineer whined.

"Yes, but why are you in pain, Mr Harper?" Dylan interrupted. "Tyr, care to elaborate on the matter?"

The Nietzschean shrugged indifferently.

"Mr Harper and the Marshall were merely engaging in a... historical experiment concerning ancient Terran traditions," he informed his commanding officer, a completely unapologetic and slightly bored expression on his face.

"Translation, please?" said officer demanded as sternly as before.

"They fought a duel," the Kodiak said dryly.

Dylan's jaw went slack and from her cowering position Beka shot up like an arrow.

"They what?" she shouted.

"Told'ya you won't believe it," Ka-Lupe repeated annoyed.

"Why?" Beka wanted to know.

"Oh please, Beka," Tyr snorted at her. "Slight hypocrisy is engaging in a female, but you're carrying it too far. What do you think why?"

"But... but..." The young woman was clearly at a loss for words. "Of all the stupid things... Seamus!" she exclaimed, kneeling down again and gently taking his face into her hands, turning his head so he would face her. "Seamus, what were you thinking? You could have been killed or disabled... Or you could have ended up killing Ka, and then what?"

"I don't care, Beka," the young man replied lowly, hissing softly while Trance was wrapping up his arm. "I... I just couldn't bear having him take you away and do nothing about it... I'm sorry, Beka, but... I couldn't..."

"Well," the _Maru_'s captain told him with a smile, "looks like you've succeeded in keeping me here, at least for the time being..."

"What?" Man Ka-Lupe exclaimed outraged from the other end of the room, quickly coming closer.

"Oh, come on, Ka," she pleaded, "I can't very well go on a vacation and leave a wounded Harper behind."

"That's just perfect!" the man snapped at her. "Beka..."

"Oh, cut it out, Ka!" Dylan threw in from the other end, where he was still contemplating the damage done to the panel. "If she cancels on you, you only have yourself to blame for it. Whose brilliant idea was this anyway?"

"What do you think?" his friend asked in a bitter tone.

Dylan threw him a curious look lingering between sympathy and scorn.

"Well," he replied, "you should have known better than to accept it..."

"There was nothing I could've done differently," the Marshall tried to excuse himself. "He... he..."

"He is a hot-spur and a pain in the ass," Dylan scolded. "But that's no reason to enter a duel with him, risking shooting each other dead and..." He stopped, throwing the panel another weighing look. "Although I suspect that you at least were never in any real danger, Ka. Am I right, Mr Harper?"

"What do you mean, Dylan?" Beka wanted to know.

"Isn't it obvious? I mean, Harper might not be sniper-material, but not even he is such a lousy shot..."

"Seamus?" Beka turned to him, inquiringly. A lopsided grin appeared on the young man's face, that quickly turned into a grimace of pain as he unmindfully shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, Beks, what do you take me for? Like I would have harmed your darling boy! I... I just wanted to show you how much I care and... I was angry with him... and" his voice died under her warm, tender gaze. "What?" he asked.

"Harper, have I told you lately how sweet I think you are at times?"

"This is getting better and better..." the Marshall threw in, frowning.

Closing on him, Dylan slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"What did you expect?" he asked him dryly. "You shot our friend..."

"I told you, I... I couldn't help it..."

"Well, you could – for once – have missed like Harper did," Dylan objected.

"I tried," Man Ka-Lupe exploded in helpless fury, "by the Divine, I tried. I was aiming as far to the right as I possibly could. The thing must be... I don't know... shooting around the corner or something..."

"Rubbish," Beka brushed his argument aside, "this is a High Guard force-lance, Ka, not some ancient highway robbery pistol..."

"I know," he agreed, "I didn't say I understand it. Just..."

"It seems to be perfectly in order," Dylan threw in, who had upon hearing Ka's argument walked himself over to the discarded weapon, picking it up. He lifted his head, shaking it, his eyes narrowing while he was looking over at the others. "Tyr," he then went on, "help Mr Harper to his feet and let's move him to Medical, shall we? That arm needs to be properly taken care of. And maybe we should call in a specialist..."

"It was a clear, clean shot-through, Dylan," Trance inserted, "the arm will heal nicely."

"I don't want a specialist for his arm; I want one for his head..." her captain informed her harshly. "This isn't the last word in this matter," he then concluded, watching his Nietzschean officer wordlessly marching over to the engineer, obeying his order without a comment. His eyes narrowed even more while he mustered the Kodiak from tip-to-toe, not leaving him out of sight while Tyr was carefully lifting Harper from the ground, the shadow of a smile lurking in a corner of the huge man's mouth.

_Now why's __**he**__ so happy about carrying Harper around?_ Dylan mused slightly uncomfortable. And then his eyes went wide.

"Tyr!" he exhaled sharply.

"Captain?"

"Why are you wearing a force-lance?" Dylan wanted to know.

"I'm sorry?" the Nietzschean asked back.

"The force-lance. Ever since President Lee's murder I've never again seen you strap one on. Why now?"

"I just felt like it," Tyr told him curtly.

"You felt like it? Today? Out of all times today you felt like it?" Dylan asked him sharply, distrust clearly dripping from his every word.

"Dylan, what does it matter?" Beka intervened annoyed. "Can we just get Harper to Medical and discuss Tyr's arming habits some other time, please?"

"I don't think we can," _Andromeda_'s captain contradicted her. He was staring furiously at his weapons' officer, who had meanwhile placed Seamus Harper back on his feet, straightening up and looking intently at the Vedran while supporting the engineer with only one arm. "Well, Tyr? Do you tell her or shall I?"

"Tell me what?" Beka demanded. The Nietzschean shrugged with a small sigh.

"I shot Harper," he said.

"You what?" Beka and Man Ka-Lupe both exploded.

"I shot Mr Harper."

"But... why?" Beka stammered.

"Because they figured that with Harper harmed you wouldn't leave," Dylan told her.

"Captain Valentine!" the Nietzschean suddenly thundered, his voice drenched in contempt. "You might want to keep your outrage at bay and **think **for a second: worried as you were about the boy bleeding from a scratch, do you really think that you can find your happiness with some Commonwealth showpiece while we risk our lives to keep all of you safe?"

"You... insolent bastard! Whatever I may think, it is my decision to make, not yours," Beka spat out at Tyr, then turned on Harper: "And you... you... petty, little..." She struggled for breath. "To think that you had me nearly in tears about your loyalty and courage! Ha!"

"Hey!" Harper protested weakly. "I **was** courageous. After all, I let Tyr shoot me. And while he's great at blasting away whole buildings, he is not exactly a finely tuned master-shot like Dylan. You should have seen him this morning practicing..."

"Oh, hold your breath, Mr Harper!" Dylan ordered curtly. "Now, Beka, I..." He drew in a deep breath and continued: "Really, Harper will be fine. Everything's under control here, there's no reason to postpone your trip..."

Both Tyr and Harper inhaled sharply, while Beka threw Man Ka-Lupe a longing look, only to then return her gaze to Harper, still furious, but also doubting.

"Beka..." the Marshall said, spreading his arms and looking at her pleadingly. With a small sigh she walked over to him and let him embrace her.

"I'm sorry, Ka," she murmured.

"Shh," he soothed her. "Don't worry about it. It was... It was my fault, too." He turned around, his arms still wrapped around the woman, but spared a look back for Dylan.

"Thanks," he told him with a nod.

"Don't mention it," the Vedran replied without a smile. "Have fun, you two!"

They remained there in silence until Beka and Ka had left the room. But then Dylan cleared his throat, without being able to shake off all traces of suppressed fury from his voice, though:

"Now, Trance, Mr Anasazi: take Mr Harper to Medical. And then report to me, Tyr. And thank the Divine or Drago or whomever you're in the habit of thanking that there is an emergency on Mandelbrot we've been called to assist with, because I swear that I otherwise would have marched you myself over to the brig and leave you there for as long as I feel like it. Which, considering my present sentiments toward you, could have turned out as something quite permanent."

"Dylan..." Harper tried tentatively.

"Not one more word, Mr Harper! Not one more word."

A/N: For all of you reviewing and sending pm's and the like: thank you very much, I really appreciate it. If I don't answer, that's because my pc seems to have picked up a dislike for , no longer alerting me on them and even crashing each time I try to reply once I notice them.


	11. Back to Basics

_11. Back To Basics_

They exited the _Maru_ with linked arms, smiling and chatting happily with each other.

"Oh, look!" Beka said, looking up into Man Ka-Lupe's face. "There is Dylan. We're being welcomed with full honours..." she added, twinkling laughingly at him, although _Andromeda_'s captain was standing at the far end of the hangar-deck with his back turned towards them and obviously issuing orders to a group of about four lancers, who – by the look on their faces – were indeed all ears.

"I didn't expect anything less," Ka told her, while they quickly made their way towards the soldiers. "After all, knowing Dylan, he surely wants to make sure I didn't break you or something. Listen, Beka... Do you think he'll make a fuss?"

"Nnooo," she answered somewhat hesitantly. "He probably won't be perfectly comfortable with it, since it is coming kind of sudden, but I'm pretty sure that once he gets used to the idea he'll be happy for us."

"Unlike Mr Harper, I presume..." her companion stated dryly.

Beka laughed and squeezed his arm comfortingly.

"Don't worry. They'll all come around eventually." She peered into his doubtful face and laughed up: "Cheer up, Ka; at least you won't have to deal with an annoying mother-in-law..."

While they were making their way through the enormous hangar towards the entrance where they had spotted Dylan's tall silhouette, Rebekkah Valentine's eyes automatically had begun to check the surroundings. And as she started to become aware of the details around her, huge cases of supplies and weaponry, medical equipment and the like piled up everywhere, the smile, although still on her face, seemed to turn a little less enthusiastic. She quickened her step, seeing Dylan dismissing the lancers who saluted and withdrew.

"Dylan!" she called out to him.

He turned around, and that was when the grin completely vanished from her features.

He looked haggard, tired, the jacket of his new uniform crumpled, dirty and here and there slightly torn. The worst part though was an enormously wide, black stripe covering his left eye completely as well as a large part of his face, that looked ashen under it.

"Goodness!" Beka exclaimed, leaving Ka's side and hurrying towards her friend. "What happened?"

They hugged each other briefly, with Beka quickly withdrawing to hold Dylan at arms' length, submitting him to a closer examination.

""What didn't happen?" he sighed. "The earthquakes on Mandelbrot were threatening to kill millions, so we had to evacuate the entire Western hemisphere of the planet and move all its inhabitants into the Eastern one."

"In the news flashs they said that the High Guard is having everything under control," Man Ka-Lupe inserted, him and Dylan briefly shaking hands.

"We **have** everything under control," the other man confirmed. "Harper has come up with a containment plan for the quakes and the ensuing floods..."

"Is it working?" asked Beka.

"Of course it's working," the Vedran snapped at her. "It's Harper's plan after all..." There was a moment of an awkward silence, ending with a tired sigh of Dylan's. "I'm... sorry, Beka..." he murmured tiredly. "I didn't mean to sound..."

"No, it's okay," she dismissed it. "I understand. Where's Tyr?"

"Him and Rommie are planet-side. Rommie is organizing the evacs, while Tyr is trying to keep the raiders at bay."

"Raiders?" Marshall Lupe queried.

"Ogami... Hell, they're like vultures," Dylan explained with an almost inaudible growl. "They came out of no-where about five days ago and have been at it ever since. We cut their supply routes and are effectively keeping others from entering the system. Actually we're winning, but it's tedious. Both lancers and pilots are exhausted..."

"Are there no reinforcements?" Man demanded to know.

_Andromeda_'s captain shook his head.

"Because of the sabre-rattling going on between the Sabra-Jaguar and the Drago-Khatzov?" his friend inquired further.

"Precisely. The whole fleet is massed around Venceremos, after all we have a mutual defence-pact."

"Which leaves us alone here," Beka stated dryly.

"Which leaves us alone here," he confirmed. "And understaffed, because I had to send away half our lancers and two thirds of the pilots to join the fleet, as well."

His XO hissed through her teeth.

"That's insane!" she complained. "Have there been any casualties of ours?"

"Just wounded, nothing dramatic."

"Any..." Beka swallowed. "Any pilots?"

The captain sighed:

"Pastewka, Lieutenant Raindrops-on-Dark-Seas and... Nexdag," he informed her lowly.

"Nexdag? The Umbrite kid? But... why was he flying at all? He's not ready yet! Dylan, he's just a boy!"

"I know, but... Look, Beka: we're coping," Dylan determinedly brushed her objection aside. "But we're all on double-shifts and..."

"And he's put himself on triple ones," _Andromeda_'s hologram blew the whistle on her captain, appearing next to them. "Welcome back, Beka!" she then greeted her first officer.

"Thanks, Rommie," the blonde nodded, not averting her meanwhile concerned gaze from Dylan. "Is that why it happened?"

"What?" he retorted curtly.

"That!" Beka insisted in an accusatory tone, nearly poking a finger into his covered eye. He shrugged.

"That's nothing," he dismissed it nonchalantly. "A... a scratch, really. I zigged when I should've zagged; just thought I would... look more dashing with it," he added touching the cloth his eye was hidden under, attempting one of his trademark grins. It didn't quite work out.

"You look like death warmed over," Beka severely informed him.

"Yes, well..." he joked, "I have another azure one, that nicely brings out the blue in my remaining eye..."

"Remaining eye?" Beka dug in, gasping. "You... you don't mean that..."

"No, NO!" Dylan quickly corrected her mistake. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"So your eye will be all right, yes?"

"After a fashion," Rommie threw in. "Provided he takes care of it properly, changes the bandage and bathes the eye every 5-6 hours..."

"Rommie, really," her commander complained, "no-one's interested in details over..."

"Oh, I am!" Beka disagreed. "**Has** he been taking care of it, Rommie?" she then wanted to know.

"Once. About 17 hours ago," the hologram answered her with a slight pout.

"Ladies, ladies!" Dylan tried to appease them.

"Dammit, Dylan..." his XO began angrily, but he didn't let her continue.

"Beka! Beka, please! Don't scold," he said pleading in a tired tone. She looked at him for an instant, then sighed.

"No, you're right. Okay, here's what we do: you go to Medical, let Trance..."

"Trance isn't here. She is also on Mandelbrot, there are thousands of sick and wounded..." he began explaining.

"Well, then not Trance!" Beka gave in, a bit annoyed. "Let whoever is there patch you up, grab something to eat and then go rest! I don't want to see you running around for at least the next six hours."

"But, Beka..."

"Dammit, man, don't argue with me! I take it from here. Now get!"

"What?"

Both officers turned around, surprised at the question. They had completely forgotten about Man Ka-Lupe. He was standing a few steps beside them, intently watching Beka with a stern expression on his face.

"Beka, we're only here because I had to cut our vacation short and return to Terrazed," he reminded her in a tone clearly indicating that this was a topic they had discussed before. "I have to leave in just about a couple of hours because of the Drago-Sabra conflict. You said that you'll come along, too. You said that since you're not officially High Guard no-one can make you..."

Although she would have deemed it impossible, Beka could see from the corner of her eye Dylan's already ghostly coloured face turning an even whiter shade of pale(1) and placed a reassuring hand under his forearm, turning eyes huge with amazement towards Man Ka-Lupe.

"You're joking, right?" she told him. "Didn't you hear what Dylan just said? There's a major crisis on Mandelbrot, Harper, Tyr, Rommie and Trance are having their plates full with saving that planet, we have to keep them safe and prevent more Ogami from entering the system, boys of mine have been injured and Dylan's about to drop. Do you seriously think that I'd just turn around and leave them under such circumstances?"

"Beka," the Marshall tried to argue with her, "_Andromeda_'s a Commonwealth war-ship. These are the usual circumstances she and her crew are always under. Whether you leave now or some other time..."

"Ka's right, Beka," Dylan sustained his friend. "If you want to leave and are just looking for the perfect moment to do so, forget it. There won't ever be one..."

She turned on him furiously.

"Stay out of it! Anyway: I said 'go'. What are you still doing here?"

"I'm going, I'm going," he hurriedly obliged, turning to leave.

"And stay away!" she called after him. "Now, Ka, let _Andromeda_ show you to my quarters and wait there for me a while, will you? I'll be with you as soon as I can, I promise..."

"But you won't come with me?" Dylan heard his friend ask her before the doors shut behind him. For a moment he considered asking Rommie about Beka's answer to that. But then he didn't dare.

(1) In case anyone wonders: yes I am a fan of the song. I have no idea what's it all about, but I like it – and the expression. So I borrowed it...

A/N: Thanks for reviewing, folks. Max, I know you're waiting for Gambit, but here's the deal: a friend of mine and me have decided to 'switch' stories as an experiment. She'll write the next chapter of Gambit, I'll write the next one of her Whishing for Elysian Fields. Apparently we're having both a bit of a problem with 'getting into it', so it might take a few weeks more. I'm sorry, hang in there, it's coming and afterwards everything will be returning back to normal.


	12. Straight Talks

_12. Straight Talks_

The officers' mess was empty but for _Andromeda_'s captain, who was listlessly chewing at his food, obviously too tired to pay any attention to what he was swallowing down, the random picking at his plate showing that in fact he didn't even have enough energy left to sao much as properly lift the fork to his mouth.

Man Ka-Lupe pressed his lips together in anger. Oh yes, Dylan was a sorry sight all right.

"Hey!" he greeted his friend, drawing a chair and seating himself across the table.

"Hey..." the man answered in a hoarse voice.

"You look..." Ka-Lupe began.

"Yes, I know, like death warmed over," Dylan interrupted.

The Marshall smiled.

"I was going to say 'still tired', but... yeah, I guess Beka worded it better. A very dashing death, of course..." he joked.

"Of course. Yes, Beka and her wording... It's a gift, I suppose," the High Guard officer replied sarcastically.

"She... she doesn't really mean it the way it sometimes sounds, though."

Dylan stared at Man, almost seeming not to see him at all – as if he was lost in musings... and thinking: _What do __**you**__ know?_

"That'll be a first," he finally brought up.

Conceding the point, the Commonwealth politician nodded. For a moment he contemplated his friend, who had leant in his chair and let his head fall back, tiredly closing his one eye. Man Ka-Lupe coughed up lightly:

"I don't suppose..." he began, then stopped.

"You don't suppose what?" Dylan politely rejoined the conversation.

"...that all of this is just another scheme staged by Mr Harper and Mr Anasazi?" Ka-Lupe finished bluntly.

_Andromeda_'s captain chuckled.

"A full-blown planetary crisis to make Beka stay?" He shook his head. "No. At least I don't think it is... That would be **really **crazy."

"Men do crazy things for women," his friend observed.

"Indeed. Like fighting duels. Of course, I didn't know about that one, either," Dylan remarked dryly.

"As long as you knew about the one thing that really matters here..."

Dylan's eyebrows – well, brow – rose inquiringly, but then understanding seemed to dawn on him. And relief.

"She's staying?" he asked, a little short of breath.

Man Ka-Lupe nodded.

"Like you didn't know," he complained bitterly.

"I didn't know, Ka. I hoped, but... I didn't **know**!"

The other man pressed his lips together, scrutinising him angrily, but Dylan's gaze didn't waver.

"Let's drop the charade, shall we?" Man finally spat out.

"Charade?"

"Yes, charade. 'I wish you both the very best, Ka,' 'you both deserve to be happy,' urging Beka to come with me... Really, Dylan, why did you even bother?"

It was uncanny how the one blue eye was fixing him intently, its look sterner with every second the silence between the two men persisted longer. Finally Dylan replied:

"Because I'm not a fool."

"You could have spared us all a lot of trouble, had you simply ordered her to stay here," the other man hissed furiously.

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"If there is one thing I can do without in my life, that's having Beka Valentine at my side, handling the helm with one hand, while with the other one she is juggling around regrets about some lost love she had to sacrifice for the sake of any... whims of mine."

"Ha!" Man Ka-Lupe snorted angrily, "and here I was thinking that Mr Anasazi and Mr Harper were the selfish, pathetically jealous bastards!"

"I'm not jealous."

"Like hell you're not!"

"I am not jealous," Dylan repeated, stressing the words more forcefully.

"Then what are you?"

"I'm desperate."

The Marshall's eyes narrowed, staring into Dylan's face as if he were seeing him for the first time in his life.

"You're desperate?" he finally asked in a bitter voice. "**You** are desperate? And what exactly are you desperate about? Losing your first officer? XOs come and go..."

"Not this one..." Dylan contradicted lowly.

"Really?" Ka-Lupe sprang to his feet, throwing the chair backwards, and started to pace, struggling for words. "I love her. Do you understand that? I love her! Do you know what it feels like to finally find the woman you want to grow old with, the one you want to be the mother of your children? Do you know what it feels like to lose her? And to what, Dylan? Dammit, man, to what? She's your XO, you can't have her **and **the High Guard, not all the way..." his rant ended in an outraged cry.

"When it comes to Beka, I'll take what I can get," the other one said quietly. It sounded like a confession, almost like a plea. It didn't help to calm down Man Ka-Lupe though.

"Why?"

Dylan's jaws began to grind, his lips pressing on each other as if he was either trying to suppress or force out an answer.

"To answer your first question:" he finally bit out through his teeth, "yes, I know what it feels like to find such a woman and lose her. And I know that you think that you won't survive it. But guess what? You will. You'll hurt like hell, for how long I can't say, and then you'll move on and come through. I did. I came through and it turned out that it didn't kill me. Beka though... Now Beka I can't live without."

"You can't live without Beka?" Man echoed incredulously. "Somehow I had hoped you'll find some less tacky figure of speech to express yourself on the matter..."

"And I probably would have, if it were just a figure of speech."

"Dylan, didn't you listen to me? I want her, I... need her."

"Yes, I know. But you see, Ka: I just need her more."

They locked eyes and finally Man Ka-Lupe shook his head.

"My God, you really believe that you can't live without her."

Dylan shook his head:

"No, you still don't get it. I don't believe it, I **know**." He gulped for breath as if drowning. "I was dead, Ka, dead. For 300 years I was dead, and I would have stayed dead had it not been for Beka."

"It could have been anyone pulling away from that event horizon."

"It could have. But it wasn't. It was her. And since then she pulled me out once more from yet another black hole, she threw herself and the _Maru_ into one of the most dangerous planetary defence systems to free me, flew up against a Worldship to retrieve me from it, brought me back after half of Command blew off in my face and hauled my already almost dead carcass through the whole ship while fending off hordes of Magog wanting to finish the job."

"It's her job to do that, Dylan. Any other of your officers..."

"Ka, believe me, I know any other of my officers, past and present. And no, no-one ever did what Beka does."

"Why does she do it then?"

"Beats me," Dylan confessed a bit helpless. "I don't know and I don't care, because it doesn't matter: whatever the reason why she does it, I can't do without."

Silence descended between the two men. After a while Dylan stood up wearily and approached his friend, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ka. Really, I am. I wish... I wish I could be a better friend for you – and for her – on this one, but... I'm sorry. It turns out that when it comes to letting go of Beka I can't be anyone else's friend but mine."


	13. Game Over

_13. Game Over_

Man Ka-Lupe turned away from the window as Beka Valentine strode into her quarters. She didn't stop or slow down, but walked straight over to him, letting him take her into his arms.

"I love you," she murmured instead of a greeting, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"But you haven't changed your mind," he answered, holding her tightly and avidly breathing in the scent emanating from her hair.

"No," she simply answered, her voice thick with regret.

"Why?" He gently pushed her away, not letting go of her arms, just so he could look into her eyes. "I love you, Beka. You love me. What's the problem? We could build ourselves a wonderful life together."

"Where? Here or on Lundmark?"

"What do you mean? Beka, I can't just resign..."

"But I can, yes? Don't fool yourself, Ka. You don't want us to build a life together. You want me to share yours."

He sighed, then moved away and sat down on the sofa. She didn't join him, placing herself in an armchair next to him.

"And if I were to come and stay here with you?" Ka finally challenged. "Do you think Dylan would have me?"

Beka's eyes widened.

"I'm pretty sure he would. He'll... he'll do whatever it takes to keep me with him," she answered truthfully.

It was his turn to be surprised.

"You know?"

"I am many things, Ka. Stupid, however, was never one of them. So:" she continued very matter-of-factly, "would you really do it?"

He shrugged.

"Don't know. I might."

"What would it take to make you?" Beka wanted to know.

He shrugged again.

"Maybe simply knowing that – although I know by now that he can't be without you – you could let go of him."

She stared at him sternly.

"No," he then said, nodding defeated, "I didn't think so. Of course, it had to be him! The Nietzschean showpiece, your young, mad genius... Them I could have battled, them you could have left, right?" He waited for an answer that wasn't coming. Then, after a fashion: "Why? Why not? A couple of hours ago you thought that you could... I don't understand it. What happened?"

"Nothing special," Beka confessed. "I came back and I saw him."

"You've seen him thousands of times..."

The young woman swallowed, then let her gaze drop. He waited. And when he was already thinking that an answer would never come, he heard her starting slowly to speak to him:

"I must have been about five. We were visiting a drift, and in the space-port there were kids from many other ships, playing together. I met a group who were playing... I don't know, some doctors' games, I suppose. They were 'operating' on an old teddy, had already chopped him a leg away and were busy 'amputating' an ear. A girl smaller than me was sitting in a corner, crying. It was her teddy and she didn't want to see them hurt him, but she was very little and couldn't help herself. I got angry, grabbed her by the hand, marched right into the middle of those kids and snatched the poor teddy away. She was thankful, we became friends – and when the time came for us to leave, she insisted on giving me that teddy. He was... well, pretty ghastly, made of some towel cloth and filled with sand that was constantly pouring out through some loose stitch or other. We had tried to fix the ear and leg back, but succeeded only partially.

It was her teddy, she loved him, I didn't want to take him away from her, although I didn't have that many toys myself. But she kept insisting, and in the end I took him."

She drew in a breath and he waited patiently for her to continue. When she didn't, Ka cleared his throat:

"That teddy," he asked, "is it that brownish something on your bed in the _Maru_?"

Beka nodded.

"His name is Apollodorus. _Poldi_, for short. I tried to patch him up so many times already, but..." She shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes I think it's hopeless."

She paused again briefly.

"A couple of years later," she then went on abruptly, "my dad got me the most wonderful birthday present ever: an angel-doll, with white, feathery wings, pink hair and a silver robe. I loved that doll, I called her Angelica and for months we were inseparable. But then, one day, I fell – and broke my wrist. It healed, but our medical equipment wasn't exactly state-of-the-art, and the wrist remained stiff. My dad and my uncle then decided to take me to Sinti, to the best specialist there was. It must have cost a fortune, but they insisted on it. Only: when we arrived and I was about to leave, my Uncle Sid explained to me that they would need to break my wrist again and reset it."

Beka smiled apologetically.

"I got frightened, started to cry. And wouldn't stop. Dad brought me Angelica, but that didn't help either. And then my brother ran away and came back with Poldi. And... and I stopped crying."

Ka sprang to his feet and turned away, a slightly pained look on his face.

"What happened then?" he asked her.

"Nothing. My wrist was mended. Poldi and I got back to the _Maru_ and... well, we're both still here, as you know."

"What about Angelica?"

"I have her somewhere. I stored her away carefully, for safe-keeping. When we were on drifts I sometimes got her out to show her off to some other girls. I... I don't know exactly where she is, but... I still have her, I know that."

The man sighed and closed in on her. Beka lifted her head and looked at him. He stroked her cheek lightly, a sad smile on his face.

"You can't store me away for safe-keeping to occasionally show me off, while you spend the rest of the time trying to patch up Dylan."

"Yes, I know."

He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Good bye, Beka."

Grabbing for his jacket placed on a chair nearby, he quickly turned around and made for the exit.

"Ka?" she called him back, just before the doors would have closed behind him. He turned around, the light in the corridors preventing him from seeing her face clearly in the darker quarters.

"I really am sorry," he heard her tell him softly.

The doors closed. For a moment he just stood there, blinking, then turned around and left.

_No, you're not_, he thought.


	14. Epilogue: Friends in High Places

Set right after Doble or Nothingness.

_Epilogue: Friends in High Places_

The Commonwealth courier ship had come, delivered its 'Captain's eyes only'-message and had then left again, the pilot indicating that he was not under orders to wait for an answer.

They were for once close-by to Terrazed, and so _Andromeda_ suspected that the message involved some classified information concerning maybe the Worldship and requiring them to report back to the Commonwealth seat of power, or – in the light of their latest adventures on Septa Parisis as well as the weird blade-crossing with the non-Commonwealth, but still somehow strangely associated space oddities of the Almagest-system better known as Shig and Lipp-Sett – that Dylan was being called in to do some explaining of his own.

When she saw him emerging out of his office at a pace even more hurried than usual, the ship began to think the second scenario more probable. That he was heading for his quarters puzzled her though, as well as the fact that once there he immediately engaged privacy mode. And remained locked in there. Obviously there was no need for an immediate action.

This impression was severely affected a few hours later, when she saw herself forced to notify him that privacy mode had to be terminated.

"_Andromeda_!"

The hologram materialised in her captain's quarters as soon as he had called – no, _barked _her to attention. With privacy mode disengaging as soon as he had pronounced her name, the ship had again access to everything concerning both the man and the area he had sealed off previously: his quarters. More precisely: what was left of them.

/

Dylan Hunt stood panting amidst the sad remains of what had been once a fairly comfortable, if slightly neutral living room. Now it looked as if a full-blown hurricane had hit it, with most of its furniture either out of place (when big enough) or broken, bottles smashed and spilled, the small glass table in front of the couch in shards, and even the bulkhead displaying some dent here and there, obviously caused by objects thrown against it with force.

Had _Andromeda_'s avatar been the one to notice the destruction first, she probably would have approached him, trying to establish some sort of physical closeness and showing all human signs of concern and worry appropriate for such a situation. The hologram though merely crossed her arms on her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Captain, are you all right?"

"What do you want, _Andromeda_?" he asked her harshly, ignoring her question altogether.

"We've been hailed by a Commonwealth-carrier. Marshall Man Ka-Lupe is asking for permission to land."

"Is he now?" Dylan's voice was pure acid. "Such an odd coincidence, don't you think?"

"I..." The hologram hesitated, motioning towards the wrecked-up decorum. "I am not quite sure what to think," she then cautiously brought forward. "Dylan, what's going on here? Odd coincidence with what? What did that message say?"

"Say?" her captain snorted in derisive anger. "It didn't 'say' anything, Rommie. It goddamn' frikking **stated**, from a high horse – and a hypocritical one at that..."

"And what did it _state_?"

He didn't answer.

"Captain?"

He seemed again lost in furious musings. The hologram frowned. In the more than six years they had been together, she had but very seldom seen him so unapproachable. As to the rage that must have held him in its grasp previously – and still seemed not totally at bay: in all this time there had been really not more than 1, maybe 2 occasions when he had lost it so completely as indicated by the state his quarters were in.

"Dylan?" she tried again.

"What?"

"The Marshall?"

"Oh yes, HIM! Sure, let him come aboard. Why not? I suppose he couldn't wait to deliver the _coup de grâce_ in person." He shut his jaws tightly, as if trying to hold back on something.

"Aye, Captain."

"Oh, and Rommie? When is Beka's ETA?"

"We have received a message from the _Maru_. Beka and Harper have successfully delivered the rescued slipfighter fleet to Sinti and are already on their way back. They'll be home in about 12 hours."

/

Man Ka-Lupe sighed in distress. One first look into the chiselled stone-mask replacing what normally used to be the familiar face of one of his best friends, as well as the fact that said friend didn't get up from behind his desk to greet him sufficed to tell the Commonwealth representant that he had not, as hoped, managed to get to the _Andromeda_ before the news had reached them.

"You know..." he told the High Guard captain, without even attempting to try any introductory chit-chat.

"That the High Guard supervisory board has called in an inquiry committee to assess and determine the status of all non-High Guard personnel serving aboard its ships as well as a way to offer suggestions on how to 'prepare them' for their demanding tasks in 'supplementary training courses' very much likely to take them away from said ships?" Dylan spat out in a bitter tone. His eyes refused to meet Ka-Lupe's and he looked aside. "Yeah, I know..."

"Dylan, it's not..."

"If you're gonna tell me that it's not what I think, you may save your breath: it is **exactly** what I think. As far as I know the only non-High Guard personnel currently serving onboard a High Guard ship are Beka, Trance and Harper. Am I wrong?"

"No."

Dylan drew in a sharp breath, staring briefly at the ceiling, before his eyes finally came to settle on his friend's face.

"If that's a way to get back at me for what happened... Well, you might have taken your time, but you played it nicely, that's for sure."

"You idiot!" Man Ka-Lupe said in a calm voice. "Is this really what you think?" His eyes bore into those of the other man, dark and harsh and challenging. For a few seconds Dylan tried to hold on to them, but then he let his gaze drop with a sigh.

"Who is it, Ka? Collectors, right? Which ones?"

"A few. But not only. Here is the petition that prompted the Senate to call in the committee. With the entire list of signatures."

Man Ka-Lupe held out a flexi, dropping it on the desk between them and pushing it towards Dylan, who – after a brief hesitation – took it with the expression of a man touching slime.

"They built the whole damned thing, Ka; they **built** it, for crying out loud! Without them there would be no Commonwealth, no High-Guard, no..." he said, still not looking at it.

"I know," the Marshall nodded. "You don't have to tell **me**."

Silenced, Dylan began to check the flexi, his face growing darker by the second.

"That's... that's priceless..." he muttered under his breath. "The... signatories find that non-High Guard personnel onboard our ships might have a disturbing and harming impact on both the efficiency and the morale of the fleet, considering that they have not been educated to uphold and respect the principles on which the Commonwealth was founded... Founded by the very people they want to see gone!" Dylan shook his head bitterly. "And just you take a look at the names on this petition:

- Wind-in-the Meadows, who's been ruling supreme the Than Construction Office for years now, with everyone knowing that she lets herself be bribed by whoever pays most, letting them build anything everywhere. Of course, no-one could ever prove a thing, but, dammit Ka! everybody knows!

- Count palatine Roland Bolivar, head of the probably largest gun running operation in three galaxies. But as first cousin of Archduke Charlemagne Bolivar, he'll probably be running it until we all drop dead before any charges are pressed against him.

- Counsellor Saroo, who first made a name for himself defending Restorian terrorists and keeping them out of jail, and is now leading the judicial department of the FTA.

- Sam Profit..."

Dylan seemed almost to choke on the name and had to come to a halt, swallowing hard.

"I know," Man tried to intervene.

"You know squat! The whole list is made out of crooks and liars and..."

"Dylan, I know, but they just so happen to be rich and influential liars."

With something of a roar, _Andromeda_'s captain sprang to his feet and slammed the flexi on the desk.

"You know what? Fine! Okay! All right, they're rich and influential and in high places and me, I'm just the guy who spilled his blood like a fool to bring or keep them there, just as did Beka, Trance and Harper. Fine. You people can have it your way. The minute Beka lands, I'll take my leave and just ask her if she thinks that she could use a new and... slightly stupid first officer on her crew on the _Maru_. And then I'm outta here."

"Dylan, if you'd just let me explain before you blow off: I was going to say that they are rich and influential, but there is a new triumvir, there's me, Tri-Ortiz, King Eric and a lot of others just as influential as they are, if not more..."

"What?"

"The inquiry committee has been dismissed, Dylan. I came to tell you that, hoping that I'll reach you before you even got notice that it had ever been appointed in the first place. I'm sorry I didn't make it in time, and that you thought that..."

"Ka!" Dylan quickly closed the space between them and grabbed for the other man's hand, dragging him to his feet and shaking his arm as if he was about to rip it off. "Gee, Ka, I'm sorry – and you're right, I can be such a jerk, such an idiot at times... I thought..."

"I know what you thought," his friend replied, a bit sulking. With a guilty look on his face, Dylan let go of him.

"I don't know what to say... I thought... I mean, with everything that has been going on between..."

"With everything that has been going on between us? You stupid bastard!" the Marshall spat out at him. "Only a year ago you fool saved my life," he added, standing tall in front of _Andromeda_'s captain, meeting his eyes head-on, but withdrawing his hand from the other man's grasp.

Straightening himself also up to full height, Dylan returned the look just as openly. He nodded, his face softening.

"I guess we're even," he then told him quietly.

Man Ka-Lupe scrutinised him through narrowed eyes.

"Are we now?" he asked.

And then, with a grunt of pain, Dylan Hunt found himself bending over in agony, as his friend's fist suddenly buried itself into his stomach so hard it nearly threw him over. One of his arms went out to the bulkhead in an attempt to steady himself, while his other hand pressed protectively down on his midsection.

"Ugh!"

Ka-Lupe leant slightly over the figure doubled in pain.

"That hurt, didn't it?" he asked, with faked sympathy.

"Of... course... that... hurt," Dylan hissed through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut in a grimace of pain. "What the... hell... did you do... **that** for?" he gasped in-between gulps of air.

"Well, you see, to an extent you deserved it. You played me, Dylan, maybe not quite as much as Beka, not as bluntly as the others, but you played me all right."

"What are you... talking about? Beka... Shit," he grunted again, fighting down a wave of nausea that hit him as he tried to straighten up again and leaning even more against the bulkhead, "you heavy-worlder or what?"

"Yeah, I am," Ka confirmed it. "Both my parents were born on Solfetara."

"Great," Dylan muttered, wiping his sweating forehead on the sleeve of his outstretched arm, "just my luck. Anyway, Beka loved you, you know..." he pressed out, finally managing to stand erect again, although he did have to turn around and lean back flatly against the bulkhead, his hand rubbing his stomach in small circles, his legs still too wobbly to support him without the help of the solid mass behind him. The punch had been hard, sharp, savage and had caught him completely off guard.

"Yeah, she did," the Marshall agreed. "I know it. She just so happened to not be able to love me enough. And although she knew it from the very start, she didn't think it necessary to inform me before I..."

"That's between you and Beka," Dylan interrupted.

"Well, I can't hit Beka, can I now? Besides, it's not actually. Ever since she met you it's between **you** and Beka... and whatever poor guy happens to cross her path and fall hard for her." He threw Dylan a long look, then nodded as he saw understanding and acceptance sinking in on his friend's pale face. "You still hurting?"

"The way I feel, that's gonna go on hurting for a while," _Andromeda_'s captain said.

Man Ka-Lupe briefly pressed his lips together, then patted Dylan lightly on the shoulder as he turned around to leave.

"Yeah, you might be right. Well, I'll be seeing you..." And, with a hand brushing lightly against the one that Dylan had still pressed on his stomach: "Don't worry, it will pass. By the way: **now** we're even."


End file.
